


Dark Side of the Moon

by WeOnlyEattheUglyOnes



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-02-12 16:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 88,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21479050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeOnlyEattheUglyOnes/pseuds/WeOnlyEattheUglyOnes
Summary: Dark Side of the MoonMatt gets a new neighbor with some interesting nighttime activities. Nyah is caught up in a curse of her own making and her downstairs neighbor is awfully nosy. What's a girl got to do to have some privacy? Slow burn Matt Murdock/Female OC.
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 58
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Nyah exited the cool interior of her Uber ride into the sultry early summer heat outside her new home in Hell's Kitchen. She looked up at the aged brick building and felt every bit of the weariness that had settled into her bones over the last few months. Her attention was momentarily diverted as the driver deposited her lone suitcase on the sidewalk by her feet. She paid him via the app on her phone and waited as he departed, before picking up her suitcase and walking up to the entrance of the building. She pushed open the door, no fancy secure entrance for this building, and eyed the ancient elevator before opting for the stairs to her right.

On the fourth landing, she nearly paused to allow another tenant to exit his apartment, a long white and red cane grasped in his hand as he shut and locked his door. When he turned away from the door, she noticed he was dressed in a worn brown suit, with old, scuffed shoes, and wore red tinted glasses.

She hesitated to make her presence known and to simply stand silently aside until he passed, but with him living in the same building as her, it was inevitable that they would meet. She decided to get it over with. “Good morning,” she greeted him, letting him know there was someone on the landing with him.

He tilted his head slightly, “Good morning,” he paused with a slight frown, “I don't believe I know you.” He made it sound like a question.

“I'm a new tenant, “she answered. “Nyah Song.”

“Matt Murdock,” he said and extended his hand to her.

She stepped forward to give it a quick shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“You bought the top two floors?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Big family?”

“Pardon me?”

“Do you have a big family? To need so much space?” he clarified.

She gave an uneasy laugh. “No, I just have a lot of stuff,” she lied.

He nodded as if it made perfect sense. They stood in awkward silence for a moment before he said “well, I've got to go to work. Welcome to Hell's Kitchen, Nyah.”

“Thank you, Matt. I'm sure I will see you around.” She stepped aside to allow him to pass, his cane tapping out a rhythm on the stairs as he descended. Finding a blind man living in the same building was an unwelcome discovery. As tired and depressed as she was feeling, he was just another unpleasant reminder of her past that she was unable to escape.

With a sigh, she continued up the stairs to the next floor and the entrance to her new home.

****

Matt had heard her coming up the stairs and, since he didn't recognize her steps, assumed she was the new tenant living above him. He knew that someone had purchased the top two floors of the building a few months ago and had suffered through the noise of the renovations that had been going on ever since. Luckily, most of the work took place during the day while he was at the office or court, but the last two weeks, work had continued into the evenings and had been jarringly distracting. His only moments of peace in his apartment had been the early morning hours before daylight.

Three days ago, two moving trucks had arrived and brought in furniture and boxes pending the arrival of the new owner. He had been surprised at how few belongings had been moved in compared to the shear amount of square footage of the space. He had secretly been dreading the arrival of a big, boisterous family that would drive him mad with constant noise.

He had not expected the small woman he encountered out on the landing. Even after climbing up four flights of stairs, her heartbeat was slow and steady, her breathing deep and even. She had smelled clean and fresh, with just a light scent of sweat and a hint of a soft floral perfume, her suitcase smelled far worse, presumably from being handled by multiple people during her trip here. At first, he was sure she was going to stay pressed up against the wall and silently let him pass her by, but then she had announced herself with a soft, pleasant voice.

He was curious why she had lied about why she needed so much space and why he was unable to detect her lie. Her heartbeat never deviated from its slow, steady rhythm and she didn't display any of the other physical signs of lying. Right now, though, he had other concerns. He was due in court in less than an hour and needed to meet Foggy at the office first. This mysterious new neighbor was someone that would have to wait for another time.

****

Nyah stood in the middle of her new living room and looked around at the boxes scattered haphazardly about. She had taken care to label everything by the room it belonged in, but the movers had chosen to ignore them. She moved several before she found the ones for her bedroom and began to unpack them.

She didn't have a lot of material belongings, she moved around too often to be weighed down by them. The few things she did have had deep, personal meaning to her and warranted being carted from one side of the globe to the other. There was the added benefit of being able to unpack quickly and she was almost done by early afternoon.

She was tired and hungry, so she decided to leave off and find a place to eat and maybe explore the neighborhood a bit. In actuality, she was postponing the last of her unpacking; that was always the most painful part of the process. The soul draining weariness that had gripped her for the last few months was almost a physical pain at this point, and the last room would only compound that pain. Maybe exploring the neighborhood would distract her somewhat. A quick search on her phone showed her there was a diner with decent reviews just two blocks away, so she grabbed her purse and headed out.

Outside it was bright and hot, and she was thankful to have changed into a pair of loose linen pants, a tank top, and a flowing shear silk kimono. As she walked past a small grocer, she made a mental note to stop on her way back and pick up a few necessities.

Pausing to glance at the display of a clothing shop, she noticed a familiar figure walking towards her. Matt's white cane was tapping out its tune on the uneven sidewalk while he appeared to listen avidly to his companion. Nyah didn't feel like another awkward conversation with her new neighbor, so she ducked into the store to wait for them to pass.

Inside, she browsed a bit and purchased two tops that had caught her eye as she passed. Through the shop window, she watched as the pair passed. Matt seemed to pause and tilt his head to listen as he drew even with where she stood inside.

“Just go,” she muttered irritably.

As if hearing her, he frowned and then continued, following the blond guy, who had not stopped talking. After they passed, she left the shop and continued towards the diner.

After a rather good meal at the diner and a quick stop at the grocer, Nyah returned to her apartment. She unhurriedly put away her purchases, delaying for as long as possible. Finally, with no further excuses readily available, she gathered the supplies she would need and went down the stairs to the first floor of her apartment.

This part of the apartment had received the most changes during the renovations, having all the walls knocked down, leaving just the supporting columns, and making the space one big open area. Bamboo flooring the color of dark honey had been installed as well as matching paneling along the walls. The multiple floor to ceiling windows had been coated with a reflective film that allowed her to see out but prevented anyone from seeing in.

Along the north wall was a small dais, with an ornate cabinet and a single moving box place on it. The cabinet was mahogany with inlays of carved jade depicting a temple atop a mountain. Nyah moved the box out of the way and using a tape measure, re positioned the cabinet in the exact center of the space. Once she was satisfied with the placement, she carefully cleaned and dusted the beautiful piece of furniture.

Then she turned her attention to the box. From it she withdrew a vase for incense and a black lacquered stand for a sword. These she arranged precisely on the top of the cabinet. A trip to her room upstairs and she returned with the three items that were the sole purpose of her shrine; a long sword with a simple leather-wrapped hilt, worn smooth from use; a scroll, yellowed with age; and a jade urn. She placed the sword on the stand and the other two items in front of it. The rest of the contents of the box, incense sticks, polishing clothes, and a oils for the sword, were stored inside the cabinet. Then she carried the box upstairs to be disposed of later.

Back down at her interpretation of a shrine, she lit the incense. Somehow, going through the ritual made her feel less worn, although she still felt weighted down with loneliness and depression, but it was still an improvement. The shrine made her new home seem complete, more welcoming.

Continuing her ritual, she sat in the lotus position in front of the shrine and meditated to clear her mind of all the negative thoughts she was having. Focusing on her breathing, she let the peace of the room sink into her body. She inhaled the slightly acrid scent of the sandalwood incense, and allowed the sounds drifting up from the streets below to fade into the background.

An hour later, feeling renewed, she stood and stretched a bit before assuming the opening stance of T'ai chi ch'üan, or Tai Chi as it was more commonly known, and began going through the movements. She started with the ancient forms originally taught to adherents a thousand years ago, then added more and more modern forms. Her movements were slow and precisely controlled with the intent of flowing like water over a smooth stone. The world faded away until all that remained was the purity of the motions.

For almost two hours, she repeated the forms over and over, until her body was covered with a thin sheen of sweat despite the air conditioning and her thighs shook from the continued strain. Only then did she perform the move to return Qi to the earth and still her movements. Drawing a deep breath, she sat down in front of the shrine.

“Oh, Lei,” she breathed, addressing the urn of ashes in her native language of Mongolian, “here we are, Beloved, another city, another new beginning.”

She sighed heavily and lay back, savoring the feeling of the cool floor. “Sometimes I envy you, waiting in the afterlife for me to join you, while I continue on year after year.” She raised her hand over her face and made a graceful movement. “When we were together, I always felt as though I could soar like an eagle on the wind.” She allowed her hand to flop back to the floor beside her. “Now I can barely crawl like a worm in the mud.”

She turned her head to gaze at the shrine. “I am tired, Beloved, so tired.”

A lone tear escaped her welling eyes and trickled down her cheek to drop onto the floor by her head.

“I miss you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. She turned and curled up on her side, drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them. Tear fell freely as she sobbed until she had no more and she fell into an exhausted sleep where she lay.


	2. Chapter 2

Matt had indeed sensed her presence earlier on the street, her scent was unique, and her steady heartbeat was unmistakable. This time she did chose to avoid him. At first, he thought it was just a coincidence that she entered the shop just before he and Foggy reached her, but then he had heard her mutter “just go” as he paused outside. Why would she purposely try to avoid him? The mystery of his new neighbor deepened.

Later, at his apartment, he heard her moving around above him. She was unpacking still, and he tuned her out for a while, then she suddenly stopped moving. He focused his senses and found her sitting close overhead, her breathing slow and steady, her heartbeat slowing even further. His confusion faded as he realized she was meditating, something he was familiar with. Her slow breathing and heartbeat were soothing to his hyper-aware senses and he found himself matching his breathing to hers.

He was unaware of how much time had passed when she stirred then started moving again, but in slow controlled motions, almost like a slow dance. Tai Chi, she was doing Tai Chi. Her movements were fluid and graceful as she flowed from one form to another. Matt lay back on his couch and focused on her. She must be at a master level, her movements like poetry, he mused, wondering if she knew any other martial arts.

When she finished, she just lay on the floor over his head. He heard her speak, but couldn't understand the language she spoke, just the emotion behind it. He heard her sobs and wondered what had made her so sad. Finally, her sobs ceased, her breathing deepened, and Matt realized she had fallen asleep on the floor.

Dark had fallen while he had been absorbed with her and it was time for him to shed the shell that was Matt Murdock, the lawyer, and become the vigilante known as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

**** 

Nyah was laying in the cool grass of a small, secluded garden within the palace walls, the moon shone full and bright in the cloudless sky overhead. Near her sat Wen Lei watching her intently. She knew this was just a dream, but it was strikingly different from her normal dreams of them together. Usually, in her dreams they acted like true lovers and shared sweet kisses and tender caresses. This dream was more like when they were together in real life. Lei took his vows as a monk seriously, even though he loved her and she him. Still, it was pleasant just to lie there with his solid presence nearby.

His deep voice broke her reverie, “Why are you so sad, Little Bee?”

He had started calling her by that nickname when he first came to the palace and she was still a little girl. He said she was always buzzing around everyone and everything. It had become his special endearment for her.

“I miss you,” she answered.

“I've been gone for a long time and you still have not moved on from something you never really had?”

“What we had was real,” she argued, turning her head to look at him directly to better see his expression.

He chose to ignore her answer and continued, “It is more than just missing me.”

“Yes,” she answered truthfully, even in dreams she could keep nothing hidden from him.

“Give voice to it and set it free,” he softly commanded her, ever the teacher.

“I'm tired,” she responded. “There's never any relief from all this and I have no reason to hope there ever will be.”

“Then why do you fight it?” he asked, his Buddhist beliefs coming into his teaching. Nyah had not been raised a Buddhist and had never adopted the belief system. She still believed in the gods of her father, even if she didn't actively worship them anymore. These gods valued strength, respect, and honor. She had lost her honor before the death of Lei and had shown great disrespect for her family and her way of life by running away after his death. All she had left was strength and even that was failing her.

“Because it is in my nature,” she offered as a weak excuse.

“There are many different forms of strength,” he stated as if he could hear her inner thoughts. “The oak is stronger than the willow, but it falls over in a strong storm because it will not bend. The willow bends and survives. Is the willow not as strong as the oak for this?”

“But the oak cannot suddenly change its nature and learn to bend,” she countered. “It is still an oak.”

“Ah,” he breathed, closing the trap, “that's what sets people apart from the rest of nature. We can choose to change, to become something else. I tried to teach you that, but you refused to learn.”

“Is that what you would have me do?” she asked him. “Learn? Change?”

“I would have you be happy, Little Bee” he answered. “I would have you live and enjoy the life you have.”

She nodded her understanding and closed her eyes and the dream faded around her.

Nyah woke up well after midnight, cold and uncomfortable on the floor. Groggily, she got up and made her way upstairs to her bedroom. There, she simply stripped off her clothes and crawled into bed naked.

****

The next morning dawned with the sun obscured behind a gray haze. No breeze disturbed the blanket of heat and humidity that smothered Hell's Kitchen. Nyah woke up feeling better than she had in months. Her dream of Wen Lei had left an indelible impression on her. She had experienced dreams about him many times over the years, but this one had been different, this one was more reminiscent of their time together; he as the teacher and she as the student, their relationship chaste. This dream rang true like none of the others had.

She lay in bed bathed in the weak morning light and contemplated Lei's words.

Live.

What she had been doing over the years since Lei's death had been surviving, not living. Focusing on making it from day to day, month to month. How does one go from just surviving to living? Really living?

Be happy.

She could not remember the last time she had truly been happy. Somehow, in her focus on surviving, she had forgotten the joys of life. She realized that she missed that just as much as she missed Lei. She could never have Lei back in this life, but maybe she could regain all the other things she had lost along the way.

Nyah knew that changing would not happen overnight, she had years of habits and caution to overcome. Without consciously making the decision, she began planning how to rejoin the world she had abandoned.

She got up and took a long shower, then treated herself to a healthy breakfast. While she ate, she looked up local dōjōs and charity organizations. They seemed like the best places to start rebuilding. After breakfast, she dressed in a cream-colored linen frock with large bell sleeves, since she was short, what was normally just a shirt reached to mid-thigh on her. Paired with gladiator sandals, it would be cool and comfortable in the balmy summer heat. She applied a minimum amount of makeup and pulled her hair back into a high ponytail.

The person that looked back at her from the mirror still looked wan, but the dark circles under her eyes were almost gone and her skin was a smooth, unblemished warm bisque that contrasted with her dark, golden hair. Her features were a mixture of Mongolian and northern European: large, wide eyes with a slight epicanthic fold and irises black as the moonless night; high cheekbones; a small, narrow nose; full lips; all set in a delicate, heart-shaped face that blended her heritage in its profile.

As a child, she had borne the brunt of prejudice from both adults and children: her blonde hair standing out starkly in a sea of dark; her eyes too big, too round; her skin too pale instead of the darker golden tone of her peers. Later, after she left her family and homeland behind and made her way out into the world, she was considered exotic. Now, as an adult in the modern world, she was just another lovely woman.

Armed with her list and a gym bag, Nyah left her apartment and descended the stairs. Surprisingly, at the landing below, she once again encountered Matt leaving his apartment.

“Good morning, Matt,” she greeted him with more enthusiasm than she had the day before. One of the changes she intended to make was to be more social and maybe make some friends. She had never really had close friends and wasn't sure how to go about getting them or if it was even possible to have them considering the life she was forced to live, but it was worth a try. The first step, she concluded, was to be more friendly.

“Good morning,” he replied with a smile. “Where are you off to?”

Nyah noticed that he had quite a bruise and a cut on his left cheek and that his bottom lip was split but decided now was not the time to mention it. “I'm just going to check out some local dōjōs and gyms in the area. Any recommendations?”

“I use Fogwell's, but it’s pretty basic,” he answered.

“Basic isn't necessarily bad,” she pointed out with a soft laugh. “It wasn't on my list, but I'll check it out, thanks.”

“It’s actually on the way to my office. I could show you where it is and introduce you to the owner,” he offered.

Her first impulse was to refuse, and Matt must have caught her hesitation because he quickly added, “or maybe another day, if you want. No pressure.”

“No, that would be great,” she corrected his misunderstanding. “Thanks.”

He hesitated himself for a moment, maybe regretting his offer, then smiled and gestured for her to proceed him down the stairs.

Out on the sidewalk, she offered him her arm to guide him. He folded his cane and took her arm in a firm grip, his hand wrapping completely encircling her bicep. She led him down the street, deftly maneuvering around obstacles and people while he told her about the neighborhood. She found it surprisingly easy to laugh at his antidotes about him and his friend and their not-so-thriving law practice. The only time their conversation faltered was when she asked him about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. He stumbled over his response, saying he supported what the masked vigilante did because it made the neighborhood safer.

“Safer?” she asked dubiously. “Since when does violence not beget more violence?” She had done her research before choosing her new home, and the high crime rate was particularly disturbing. It had factored into her decision to move here. “I don't recall seeing that crime has declined in the year since this Daredevil made his appearance.”

Matt stopped abruptly, his grip on her arm tightening. “Do you know that 75% of the crime in this neighborhood goes unreported? That the residents here do not trust the police because they are on the payroll of crooks and criminals?” He challenged her, his expression hardening.

“How exactly do you know that?” she shot back at him, refusing to back down.

“Because I grew up here. I know this neighborhood and the people.”

“Fair enough,” she allowed. “But you still didn't understand the question. Violence only causes more violence. There has to be a better way to protect the people here besides brutally beating up criminals. A way to shut down crime at its source.”

Perhaps some of Lei's Buddhist beliefs had rubbed off on her after all; that argument certainly sounded like something he would say.

“Maybe, but maybe not,” he answered, loosening his grip and starting to continue down the street. “We'll have to agree to disagree on this.”

The last block they walked was in a tense silence. Nyah stopped outside Fogwell's gym, and before they went inside, Matt broke the silence.

“I'm sorry, Nyah,” he said hanging his head. “The subject of the Devil is one you will find people to be passionate about, whether for or against. He's a big point of contention around here.”

“So, I gathered,” she replied dryly, rubbing her arm quietly where his grip had bruised it.

“Again, I'm sorry,” he grimaced. “You are allowed to have your own opinion about it, no matter how wrong you might be.” He softened the last with a rueful smile.

She smiled back although she knew he couldn't see it. “I understand. Don't ask about the Devil unless I'm prepared for a strong response.”

“A strong response,” he laughed at her phrasing. “That's one way to put it.”

With the tension between them broken, they went into the gym and Matt introduced her to the owner, Old Joe, and left her to continue to his office.


	3. Chapter 3

While Fogwells gym was not what she was looking for, Joe had graciously advised her on the list and made a couple of recommendations. Armed with this information, Nyah continued her search.

The first dōjō she stopped at was a bright, open modern affair that catered to a more affluent clientele. She checked it off her list and continued to the other one. She found it sandwiched between two old tenements. The sign out front was so weathered that it was difficult to read the “Midtown School of Karate” written in faded orange letters. A bell on the door tinkled gaily when she entered. Inside was small and cramped feeling, but brightly lit and clean. A small class consisting of middle-aged women practiced yoga in a room to her left.

An older gentleman came out of a room to her right and approached her.

“Good morning,” he greeted her. “May I help you?”

“Good morning,” she answered back. “I was wondering if you would be interested in a Wushu or Tai Chi instructor.”

He looked at her critically and asked, “do you have any references or certificates?”

Nyah shook her head. “No, sir. I learned in Shandu, Mongolia. My instructor was a monk from whom I took private lessons.” None of these statements were technically a lie, just not the whole truth.

At the man's frown, she continued, “I can provide a demonstration of my skills.”

He considered her offer, then motioned towards the back of the building, “the locker rooms are through that door, women on the right. I will be here,” he indicated the room he came out of, “when you are changed.”

A few minutes later, dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a tank, Nova went through the first five positions of Tai Chi before Mr. Yang stopped her.

“What other forms do you know?” he asked.

“I know ancient forms and modern forms of both Changquan and Taijiquan and can use the dao, taijijan, nangun, and qiang. Among others.” Lei would disapprove, but she was proud of her skills.

Mr. Yang indicated a rack to the side of the room and Nyah picked a wooden dao from it, then demonstrated a few basic forms and two complex forms. Next, she did the same with the nangun, a type of spear. Mr. Yang was nodding his approval when she came to a stop in front of him.

“I have a beginner Tai Chi class for adults every Thursday at 7:00 pm and an advanced taijijan class every Tuesday at 6:00 pm. I will let you instruct them for two weeks under my supervision to see how you do.”

She gave him a delighted smile. “Thank you, Mr. Yang! I appreciate you taking a chance on me.”

“Don't thank me yet,” he cautioned. “I can't afford to pay you much; this is a poor neighborhood.”

Nyah nodded, “yes, I know. That's why I chose it.”

***** 

Nyah's next stop was a women's crisis center, where she sat in the waiting room for forty-five minutes waiting to meet with the center's director, Cynthia Williams. There were only two other women in the area with her, one young woman with a sleeping infant and a black eye, and an intensely nervous older woman. The older woman got up twice to leave only to change her mind and sit back down. When she got up a third time, Nyah stopped her and asked her if she was okay. The woman responded in Greek, which was one of the many languages Nyah had picked up over the years, although she was not completely fluent in it.

She repeated her question slowly in her faltering Greek. Upon hearing her own language, the woman looked relieved and started speaking rapidly.

“Please,” Nyah stopped her by laying a hand on her arm, “slowly.”

The woman took a breath and started again, slower this time. She was here on a visa, staying with her oldest daughter. A month ago, her daughter disappeared, but the police have not been able to find her. To make matters worse, the landlord, when he found out she was living there alone, changed the locks on the apartment, effectively locking her out of her home. All of her belongings were in the apartment and the landlord won't even let her in to get any of her stuff, saying she's not on the lease.

She had been staying with a friend of her daughter, who told her this place might be able to help her. Nyah wasn't so sure, this was a crisis center for abused women. But it wasn't her place to say, so she held her tongue. The woman seemed less nervous now that she was able to tell her story to someone.

Shortly afterwards, Mrs. Williams came out to get Nyah and take her back to the offices in the back. Nyah had just begun to explain why she wanted to volunteer at the center, when there was a knock at the office door.

A young woman opened the door and addressed Nyah. “Are you the one that speaks Greek?”

“Yes,” she answered, rising from her chair. She had an idea why she was being asked.

“Um, can you possibly translate for me?” the woman asked with a look at her boss.

“Sure,” Nyah also looked at the director, “if that's okay?”

Mrs. Williams stood, “of course. Lead the way, Leslie.”

The three of them went down the hall and into another office where the Greek lady Corina Vitalidi, waited. Nyah repeated her story to Leslie and the director and translated questions back and forth. After the complete story was out, Mrs. Williams shook her head and told Nyah and Leslie that as much as she wanted to help Mrs. Vitalidi, her problem was beyond the scope of their center.

Mrs. Vitalidi was crestfallen when Nyah told her what was said, her eyes filling with tears as she stood and made her way out of the office.

“Wait!” Nyah called after her in Greek. “Wait for me in the waiting room, I have an idea.” The older woman didn't look too hopeful but nodded and continued back up the hall to the front of the center.

Nyah turned to the director and asked her “is it against the rules for me to send her to someone who can help her?”

Mrs. Williams thought about it for just a moment, then replied, “well, it is our job to help them, even if we can't do it ourselves. So, no, I don't believe so.”

“Good,” Nyah said. “Can I come back tomorrow to finish our meeting?”

“No,” said the director and Nyah prepared to just leave and try another place tomorrow.

“Come back tomorrow at 8:00 so you can fill out all the paperwork for volunteering,” she continued.

Nyah smiled and thanked her, then went out to where Mrs. Vitalidi was waiting.

“Come with me, Mrs. Vitalidi, I know someone who might be able to help you, or at least point us in the right direction.”

****

Matt was in his office reviewing files for a case, their only case currently, when he heard the outer door of their office open. He heard her measured heartbeat before he heard her voice address Karen.

“Excuse me, is Mr. Murdock in?”

“Yes, he is. Do you have an appointment?”

“Um, no,” she hesitated, so Matt stepped out of his office and interrupted her.

“Nyah?”

“Hi, Matt,” she answered. “I'm sorry, I didn't think. I should have called and made an appointment or something first.”

“You're in luck, I have an opening on my calendar,” he said with a smile. “Come in.” He stood aside to allow her and the other woman to enter his office.

“This is Mrs. Vitalidi and I thought you might be able to help her,” and she went on to explain the situation. Matt stopped her shortly after she began and called Foggy into the office and made introductions. When she finished the story, Foggy and he asked questions to help fill out some paperwork and Foggy left to file them at the courthouse and hopefully get a court order to allow Mrs. Vitalidi into the apartment to get her belongings.

“While he is doing that, I will go to the police station and find out where the investigation is on your daughter's disappearance.”

When Nyah relayed that to the women, she jumped up and enveloped him in a hug, thanking him effusively in Greek. He awkwardly patted her back and disengaged himself from her embrace.

The look of joy on the woman's face suddenly faded and she turned to Nyah and started speaking rapidly in Greek.

Nyah said something back to her holding up her hands and making a downward motion with them. Mrs. Vitalidi paused, then more slowly, started over. When she was done, Nyah reached out and took her hand and replied. The woman teared up and hugged Nyah, who didn't look any more comfortable than he had earlier. When the woman left the offices to go wait for their call, he turned towards Nyah with a questioning look on his face.

“What was that last part about?”

“She doesn't have any money to pay you guys with since her daughter is gone. She was their only source of income.”

Matt laughed, “we run into that a lot here. We will work something out.”

“Oh, no,” Nyah held up her hand to stop him. “I will take care of her expenses. After all, I brought her to you.” He heard her as she dug around in her purse and pulled something out of it.

“You don't have to do that. I told you, we will work something out with Mrs. Vitalidi.” Matt assured her.

“No, you won't. I said I have this,” she said firmly, brooking no arguments. “How much should I make the check out for?” She waited expectantly.

Matt was at loss for words and just gaped at her.

“Matt?” she asked again. “How much?”

Matt thought quickly and spit out a number he considered reasonable. “But,” he quickly added, “we usually bill our clients after the fact.”

Nyah's pen scratched on the paper as she wrote. “Then consider this a retainer fee.” She tore off the check and crossed the room to place it in his hand. “Do right by her, and I'll ensure you get more clients. I need someone reliable to refer people to for this kind of help.”

Once again, Matt was struck speechless as she opened the door.

“Thank you, Matt. See you around,” and she left, the door shutting with a click behind her.

Matt sat down and ran his hand through his hair. Who was this woman?

There was a rap at his door and Karen stuck her head in. “How'd it go?”

Matt held up the check, “we got paid.”

“That's fantastic!” She came over and took the check from him. “Holy cow! Five thousand dollars? What are you guys having to do for this much?”

“Wait,” Matt sputtered, “did you say, 'five thousand dollars'?”

“Well, I certainly didn't say five thousand pesos!” She laughed.

Matt had told Nyah five hundred, not five thousand. He wondered if she made a mistake but didn't think so. She didn't seem like the kind of person who would make mistakes like that. No, it was intentional.

But why?

****

The next two weeks passed comfortably for Nyah. She split her time between teaching at the dōjō and volunteering at the women's center. The only tense moments of the week were when she had to broach a touchy subject with her two bosses. There were three days a month that she simply was not available to work. She made up a plausible lie about having to travel to visit her mother in a nursing home upstate. Both accepted her excuse and agreed to schedule around the three days. She provided with the dates for the next three months and left it at that.

She sent another client to Matt and Foggy during the two weeks, a young woman who had been fired for reporting her boss for sexual harassment. Instead of going with her, she assured her she would pay any bills she received. Matt caught her on the landing the next morning and thanked her for the new client, but didn't mention payment, so she assumed everything was okay.

Matt and Foggy were able to not only get Mrs. Vitalidi access to her daughter's apartment but made it possible for her to continue living there for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately, they hadn't made any headway on finding her daughter. The police didn't have any leads, so their investigation was stalled. Nyah was worried about Mrs. Vitalidi and made sure her bills were paid, and she had food, but her mood was becoming more and more despondent every day that went by with no word on her daughter.

All in all, though, Nyah could almost pretend she had a normal life. She had gone out for drinks with two other women that volunteered at the center with her and had met Karen for lunch once. She was more content than she had been in a long time.

Tuesday morning was bright and clear when Nyah woke up. She knew without looking at a calendar what day it was from the restless energy that pulsed through her body. Getting through the day was going to be a challenge, but she had obligations.

It had become habit to meet Matt on the landing outside his apartment and walk together to his office before she continued on to the women's center. This morning, she had difficulty focusing on their conversation and after the third time Matt had to repeat what he just said, she apologized and hurried ahead on her own.

Fortunately, the women's center was slow that day, so Nyah was able to spend most of it alone in her cramped office. The two women that she saw had straightforward cases that she was able to handle quickly and send them on their way. She felt a twinge of guilt about her haste but was confident she had handled them correctly, so no harm done.

Midafternoon she received a call from a detective asking if she could meet with him the next day about the Vitalidi case. When she asked what he wanted, he told her he just had a few questions about the case. Nyah assured him that she didn't really know anything other than what Mrs. Vitalidi had told her. She hadn't even been in town with the younger woman had disappeared. The detective said he was aware of that, but he still had some questions she could help with. Nyah explained that she would be out of town until Saturday and could meet with him later that afternoon or sometime next week. He said it could wait until next week and they agreed on a time Monday afternoon.

Her advanced class of Taijijian was the one good distraction that afternoon, where she could lose herself in the various forms she put her eight students through. Two of them were good enough that she was going to encourage them to enter a competition the next month. The rest made up for their lack of perfect form with their enthusiasm and love of the art.

After the class was over, though, a quick glance at the sky let her know she only had a couple of hours until dark fell. She hurried home to prepare for what was to come. Over the years, how she prepared for this night had varied depending on the season and the location. She opted for comfort tonight, loose cotton pants and a simple tee-shirt with comfortable sneakers. Even though she was hungry, she had not eaten any lunch, she chose not to eat before she went out. Sometimes having a full stomach could be unpleasant, to say the least.

Just before the sun disappeared from the sky, she left her apartment, leaving her purse inside. She would not be needing it tonight. Taking the key for the deadbolt, she locked the door behind her, then slid the key under the door.

Going down the stairs, she met Matt coming up from the street.

“Hey,” he stopped her. “We were going to go out to Josie's for a couple of drinks. Want to join us?”

“Thanks, Matt, but I'm heading out for the night. Maybe another time?” She could feel the sun setting and needed to get out of the building.

“OK,” he said with a frown. “Are you alright?”

Damn, but he is perceptive, she thought, but she smiled and forced her voice to sound cheerful. “Yes, I'm just running late. See you later!” and she practically ran down the stairs and out into the street.

She tried to put as much distance between herself and the building but felt the moment the sun disappeared under the distant horizon. She paused for a moment and the frantic beating of her heart slowed and became a slow, steady beat once again. Her body turned off its own volition. For the rest of the night, she would be just a passenger, her body following some unknown signal to some equally unknown location.

For the next two hours she wandered down streets and alleys, slave to an ancient curse. Finally, on a busy street, she came across an old man weaving drunkenly as he walked down the sidewalk. She turned and followed behind him and he tottered down the street. Not paying attention to where he was going, he stepped out into the road in the middle of the block right into the path of a city bus.

Nyah's curse kicked in and she rushed up behind him and shoved him out of the way of the oncoming bus. The last things she was aware of were the drunk's curses as he sprawled out in the road, safe from the bus, bright lights, the screech of tires, and blinding pain from every part of her body.

Then nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

Matt stood on the stairs as Nyah rushed off. He was concerned about her. Her heart had been racing, her blood pressure was high, and her temperature was up. Her voice had sounded strained even as she attempted to sound calm. He had not known her to be anything other than calm and collected over the two weeks that he had known her. Even when she blatantly lied, her heart rate never changed from the slow, steady beat he had come to associate with her almost as much as her unique scent.

Well, he thought to himself, I guess that means she's only human like the rest of us.

He would make a point of asking her again in the morning on their walk to work.

But she didn't show up the next morning, nor did she come home that night either. Her apartment sat silent above him Wednesday and Thursday. As he patrolled the neighborhood those nights, he kept listening for her.

Something was wrong. People disappeared all the time in Hell's Kitchen, and it was never a good thing. So, he did some research. First, he looked for her on social media. There was nothing, no Facebook, no Twitter, no Instagram. Then he googled her name and came up empty. There was no such person as Nyah Song according to the internet. He tried a different approach and searched for the owner of her apartment. That got results, just not the ones he was expecting. It was owned by some company in Oslo, Norway. He looked up the company and her name wasn't associated with it at all. He even called the number listed for the company and asked to get a message to her. He was put on hold for several long minutes before the receptionist came back on the line and informed him that there was no one there by that name, he must have the wrong number. As far as he could find out, she just didn't exist.

It wasn't until he was preparing to go out Friday night that something changed. It has been dark for nearly an hour when he heard that steady beat he had been missing the last three days. It suddenly started in the apartment over his head; no steps or other sounds to announce her arrival, just her heartbeat. He scanned the ceiling and found her right above him on the floor of her bottom room. At first, he couldn't detect a heat signature, then she grew slightly warmer than the room around her and warmed quickly until her temperature was normal.

He heard her stir then groan. She stood, took a few steps and said something in the same foreign language as before, then shuffled up the stairs. He heard the shower start a few moments later.

Just when he thought he had the world figured out; it throws something like this at him. Another mystery to solve.

***** 

Nyah woke up on the cool floor in front of Lei's ashes and sword. There was the usual pain and disorientation associated with her resurrection, but after nearly a thousand years of repetition, it faded as her body warmed up, completing the process.

She pushed herself up with a groan and stood on shaky legs. The shakiness she was experiencing would fade soon. She walked up to the shrine and touched Lei's urn.

“Another month, another life given.”

She wasn't sure when those words had become part of her ritual, but now it was ingrained. Next would be a long shower, a new part of the ritual for which she was eternally grateful.

She had always spent the day after her resurrection in quiet meditation and doing Tai Chi. Feeding her soul, she had called it. So, Saturday morning after a good breakfast, she changed into comfortable clothes and slippers and made her way downstairs. She had only been meditating for a few minutes when her doorbell chimed. She ignored it, but a minute later it chimed again, and again in another minute. Sighing, she rose to answer it.

Matt was standing on her landing with a sheepish look on his face.

“Good morning, Matt,” she greeted him.

“Morning,” he said, then just stood there not saying anything, acting unsure about whatever it was he wanted.

“Um, would you like to come in?” she invited.

“Yes,” he answered with a bit of a smile.

She stood aside and allowed him to enter, then offered her arm to guide him to the living room. When he saw down on a chair, she offered him a drink.

“No, thanks,” he sounded nervous and unsure of himself, which was unusual.

“What can I do for you this morning?” she prompted, hoping to get to the reason for his visit.

“This is going to sound creepy and I apologize now for that,” he started.

Nyah leaned back in her chair and smiled, “Creepy? Okay.”

“Well, you seemed upset about something when I ran into you Tuesday evening, then you didn't show up for the next three mornings on the way to work. I even called the women's center looking for you, but they said you weren't there.” He stopped and spread his hands. “I was worried something had happened to you.”

“Okay, that is a little creepy that you called my work, Matt. But it could be worse, I guess,” she laughed, “I mean you could have picked my lock and went through my underwear drawer while I was gone.”

Matt laughed at her joke, “no, but I was tempted!”

After their laughter died, Matt looked serious again. “Are you alright? Is something going on I can help you with?”

“No, Matt,” she assured him. “I'm fine. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you would worry. I should have let you know.” She leaned forward in her chair and gave him the same lie she gave her bosses. “My mother is in a nursing home upstate and I went to visit her.” Knowing he needed a bit more than that, she continued, “she's got advanced Alzheimer's and doesn't recognize me anymore, so I'm always a bit anxious when I go. It's stressful.”

Hopefully, that would be enough to satisfy him. She knew he was smart, so she kept her explanation short.

“I'm sorry, Nyah,” he told her. “I shouldn't have intruded.” He rose to leave. There was a distinct change in him, like he was more formal, distant; his movements sharper, almost like he was angry.

“No, it's okay.” She stood also and stepped closer to him to lay a hand on his arm. “It's just that I've been on my own for a while and I'm not use to people worrying about me.”

He pulled away from her touch. “I better go.”

“Matt?” she stopped him. “Thank you,” she said and actually meant it. It felt good to have someone that cared enough to worry about her.

He nodded, “you're welcome,” and gave her a faint smile.

***** 

Matt stood out on the landing after Nyah shut her door behind him, torn between two competing emotions. He was angry because he was sure she had just lied to him again. He was sure her sudden disappearance was tied to the fact that she was a ghost for all practical purposes. Not to mention how she had magically appeared in the apartment last night.

But he had grown fond of her and her easy ways and he had been truly worried about her. He had actually missed her calming presence in the mornings on their walk to work. When he got back after a particularly rough night out, he lay in his bed and focused on her to take his mind off his aching body.

Wow, he thought, I've turned into a stalker.

*****

Later that day, Nyah did an internet search based on the details she remembered from Tuesday night. It didn't take long to find a short article: Homeless Man Saved from Death. The article stated that the facts surrounding the near-death experience of Roger Glover were conflicting. Some witnesses stated he was pushed into the path of the bus by an unidentified woman. Other witnesses, including the bus driver, stated that he had stepped out in front of the bus and was pushed out of its path by the woman. One witness swore that the two were in a physical altercation, while another was sure that he saw Iron Man save the man. The mystery woman had fled the scene before authorities arrived and was wanted for questioning. Roger Glover had been treated for minor injuries at the scene and had no memory of what had happened due to his state of intoxication.

Nyah printed the article then got out her writing tools that she kept in her office. She had been keeping a record of her life and deaths for many years. The oldest were handwritten in classical Mongolian script on paper that was brittle and yellow with age and were currently kept in a climate-controlled vault by Advokatfirmaet Morck, Tingelstad, Dal & Skare DA, the law firm out of Oslo, Norway, that she employed.

Being for all extent and purposes an immortal had come with its own set of challenges that only got more difficult as the world became more and more advanced. Nyah had found that hiring lawyers to oversee her finances and assets was a great way to stay invisible. They were also a great help when it became necessary to cover her tracks or change her identity. There might come a time when she wouldn't have to hide anymore, with the world becoming aware that there were super humans, aliens, sorcerers, mutants, and gods walking among them. But it was convenient to have someone manage all her stuff for her, so she doubted very much that she would forego having lawyers on her payroll.

Nyah still kept a handwritten account of her life and deaths, but used modern technology to obtain details, like the names of the people she saved. Using an antique fountain pen that she had purchased in the 1870's, modern ink, and heavy linen paper, she spent the next four hours writing about her move to Hell's Kitchen, her new life, the new friends she had made, and finally saving Roger Glover. When she was done, and her writing tools put away, she had ten pages filled with her flowing Mongolian script. She hoped that should her writings came to light one day, that there would still be someone alive that could read them.

***** 

Her easy routine resumed Monday morning. She met Matt on the landing, and they walked to his office together. He seemed less comfortable with their conversation than normal. She assumed that he was still a feeling a little put out by her disappearance. She would have to make sure to let him know before it happened again. She had grown fond of him and would miss his friendship if she lost it through her own carelessness.

There were a few things about him that nagged at the back of her mind, though. Like the bruises and scrapes he always seems to have. He tries to pass them off as a byproduct of his blindness, but for a blind person, he is uncannily aware of his surroundings. She had never seen him bump into objects or trip over anything. He always seemed aware of the locations of people in the room with him and even though he always took her arm during their morning walks, he hardly seemed to need her guidance. Sometimes she wondered if he was truly blind.

After she finished up at the women's center, she went to the police precinct to meet with Detective Maroney to answer his questions. While she was waiting out in the front for him to come get her and take her back, she overheard two officers talking about the vigilante.

“I swear, this guy is just making us look bad,” a young blonde officer was saying to the older guy he was walking with.

“That's because he is orchestrating all these so-called crimes, Larry! How do you think he is always there ahead of us? How he always gets the drop on these guys? Because he is setting them up, that's why.” The older guy looked like he wanted to spit, but a look from the desk clerk made him change his mind.

“That's bullshit,” Larry answered. “You're just pissed because he caught the guys that you'd been chasing for three weeks. Had them trussed up like Thanksgiving turkeys. Might as well have put a bow on them.”

“I'm telling you; this guy is a menace. Someone is going to have to do something about him soon. Put him out of commission permanently, if you get my meaning.”

Nyah was distracted from the rest of the conversation by the arrival of Maroney. The detective introduced himself and led her back to his desk.

After settling into the hard chair he provided, she told him, “You said you have some questions for me, but I don't see how I can be of any help to you in your investigation.”

“On the contrary, Miss Song, I think you can help us immensely,” he assured her, taking a drink of his coffee before setting it down.

“Irregularities?” she asked.

“For instance, where you aware that Mrs. Vitalidi and her daughter had been fighting about Mrs. Vitalidi returning to Greece?”

“No, I was not aware of that fact. As I told you, I only became involved three weeks ago when Mrs. Vitalidi sought help dealing with the landlord.”

“It was brought to our attention that Marina wanted her mother to go back to Greece and was threatening not to renew her sponsorship for her visa,” he leveled a look at Nyah like he was expecting her to make some kind of connection. When she remained silent, he continued, “Now, here we are a week away from her visa expiring and her lawyers, the ones you directed her to, have filed for a six-month extension. Convenient, wouldn't you agree?”

Nyah looked at him, alarm blooming in her chest, “are you suggesting that Mrs. Vitalidi is a suspect in her daughter's disappearance?”

“You have to admit that it looks suspicious. I'm doing my best to control the situation, but my superiors are considering involving immigration authorities. I'm sure Mrs. Vitalidi doesn't want that.” He leaned back in his chair looking smug.

“And where do I come in?” she asked, though she had a pretty good idea where this was heading.

“I think it might be in Mrs. Vitalidi's best interest to back off on her daughter's disappearance and let the spotlight on it fade. Once everyone's attention is elsewhere, maybe in a few months, we can circle back to it.” He leaned towards her and said in a conspiratorial tone, “you could convince her to do that, since you are so concerned about her welfare, right?”

Nyah though carefully about her next answer. “I can certainly relay your concern to her.” She stood up, “If there is nothing else, I'll be on my way.”

Mahoney grabbed her wrist and yanked her back down. “I don't think you understand what kind of trouble Mrs. Vitalidi and anyone helping her will be in if she doesn't cease,” he said dropping all pretenses at being helpful. “One of the lawyers is blind, isn't he? And you live alone in a dangerous neighborhood.”

She twisted her wrist free of his painful grip, jumped up and put more space between them. “I think I understand completely now, thank you.”

She turned to walk away, and he called after her, “be careful Miss Song.”

After she left the precinct, she made her way to Matt and Foggy's office. If anyone would know how to handle this situation, they would. It was late afternoon, but the office was still open, and Karen greeted her with a warm smile.

“Hi, Nyah! I haven't seen you in a while. How are you doing?”

Nyah liked the tall blonde woman and had no trouble returning the smile, “Hi, Karen. I've been busy and I was out of town for a bit last week. We should get together for lunch sometime this week and catch up.”

“That would be great. How about tomorrow?”

“Sounds good. Um, is Matt or Foggy still here?”

“Hey, Nyah,” Matt said from the entrance to the office right behind her, almost making her jump. How did a blind man sneak up behind her like that?

She turned to face him, “Hi, Matt. I need to talk to you if you have the time.”

He nodded his head, “Sure, go on in. I'll get Foggy.”

She almost breathed a sigh of relief, “Ok.”

*****

“He said what?” Foggy asked in disbelief.

“He threatened Mrs. Vitalidi with deportation, and you, Matt, and me.” Nyah's voice sounded strained.

He could tell something was off about her when he followed her into the office. Beside the physical signs of stress that she normally didn't show, she had not noticed him behind her outside and had allowed him to practically sneak up on her. She was not usually that oblivious to her surroundings.

“Did he actually say any of this?” he asked her.

“Do you mean did he come out and say that he was going to do any of it? No, he implied it, though. And not subtly. He said something about Matt being blind and me living alone in a dangerous neighborhood. I'm telling you; someone wants this to go away.” She jumped out of her chair and started pacing the room like she had too much stored energy. Matt also noticed she was holding her wrist against her body.

He nudged Foggy when she had her back to them and mouthed “her wrist” to him.

When her pacing brought her back to his desk, Foggy asked her, “Are you okay? You're holding your wrist.”

She waved away his concern, “just a bit of a bruise from the detective. It's nothing. What are we going to do?”

“There's nothing we can do this late in the day,” Matt answered her question. “Tomorrow Foggy and I see if we can find any evidence to back up his claim about immigration and her visa.”

“Should we tell Mrs. Vitalidi about any of this?” She asked them.

Foggy answered, “not until we have more information. If we find something that backs up his claim, then we will let her know so she can make a decision.”

Matt stepped in to assure her. “It will be okay, Nyah. We won't let them do anything to her.”

“Ok,” she answered, not sounding completely convinced.

After she left, Matt turned to his friend. “How bad was it?” he bit out even though he had a good idea. Nyah's wrist had been badly inflamed from the bruising.

“It looked pretty bad,” Foggy told him truthfully.

“I think detective Mahoney needs a visit from the Devil tonight.”

“Do you think that's a good idea, Matt?” his friend argued. “Wouldn't that just tip him off or something? I mean, it’s not entirely subtle is it? He threatens her and that night he gets roughed up by Daredevil? Not hard to make a connection.”

“You might be right,” Matt conceded.

“Wow,” Foggy said. “Can you say that again while I record it?”

Matt laughed, “Not a chance, so savor it.”

They both laughed.

“So, you aren't going after Mahoney?” Foggy asked after a moment.

“I'm not going to 'rough him up',” he made quotes in the air with his fingers. “But I am going to follow him and see who he is talking to. Maybe I can find out who is behind these women disappearing.”

Foggy nodded, “Well, that's a plan I can get behind. Just be careful.”

Matt grinned at him. “Careful is my middle name.”


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next morning, Matt was sporting another injury; his left eye black and almost swollen shut. Nyah noted that he favored his ribs on that side also. Deciding that was good for the goose was good for the gander, as the saying went, she asked him about it.

There are drawbacks to being blind,” was his reply.

“What? You aren't going to tell me you ran into a door, are you?” She asked with thinly disguised sarcasm. She couldn't wait to hear this.

“Um, would you believe I take classes in self-defense?”

She hummed her disbelief. “Um, no.”

“You'd be surprised how many criminals think a blind man is an easy target for mugging,” he shrugged, then winced.

“So,” she said, trying to put the pieces together, “you take self-defense classes in case you get mugged?”

“Yep.”

“And you got these injuries in the class?”

“Yep.”

“Isn't the purpose of taking the class to NOT get injured?” She still wasn't buying it.

“It turns out that I'm pretty good at it,” he said with a rueful chuckle, making himself wince again. “My sparring partner kind of forgot I was blind and got carried away.”

“Carried away? That's what you are calling it now?”

“If it means anything, I did learn not to piss off someone bigger than me,” he joked.

Nyah decided to drop it. After all, she didn't tell him the complete truth either. Let him keep his secrets.

****

After she finished at the women's center that afternoon, she stopped by Matt and Foggy's office to see if they had made any progress finding out what was going on. Karen and Foggy had made some disturbing discoveries during that day and they filled her in on them.

“We did some searches through the papers and on the internet and found that there have been quite a few young women disappearing around this area over the last ten months.” Karen started.

“How many are we talking about?” Nyah asked, concern tinting her voice.

“We found at least fifteen, but we are certain there are more that haven't been reported,” Foggy answered.

“Do these women have anything in common?”

“Well, they are all young, ranging from 16 to 25, all living alone, in flop houses, or in homeless shelters. No family to come looking for them.”

“So,” Nyah mused, thinking about all the crime dramas she had watched over the years, “they were all high-risk targets that nobody would miss?”

“Wow, look at you using the lingo!” Foggy laughed, trying to lighten the mood in the office.

“Any other commonalities?” she pressed.

“Not that we can find so far,” Karen sighed, “but we are still looking. This might just be the tip of the iceberg. There's no telling how many have disappeared that weren't reported.”

“Can I get a list of names? I can do some searching at work and see if I can come up with anything.”

“Sure, I'll email you the list we have so far and any that we add to it as we find them,” Karen said.

Nyah turned to Foggy, “What are we going to tell Mrs. Vitalidi? I don't like the idea of leaving her in the dark.”

“Neither do I,” he agreed. “Why don't you tell her the truth and to lay off while we do our thing? That should give the detective a false sense of security and buy us some time.”

She considered his suggestion and agreed with his logic, “Okay. I will swing by her place after my class and talk to her.” Then to Karen “Are we still good for lunch tomorrow?”

Karen gave her a somewhat strained smile, “yep, I could use a little girl time.”

“Sounds good,” she replied then stood. “Now, I have a class to teach. Hey, maybe you guys should convince Matt to come to my class on Thursday instead of his self-defense class. I promise he won't leave looking like he just lost a prize fight!”

Foggy and Karen looked at her blankly for a moment, then Foggy gave an unconvincing laugh. “Self-defense class.” He nodded like he understood. “Yeah, we'll mention it to him.”

As Nyah left the office, she thought to herself that Matt wasn't the only one lying. Karen and Foggy were obviously in on it too. Whatever 'it' was.

After her class, Nyah stopped by Mrs. Vitalidi's and filled her in on what was going on. The older woman was understandably alarmed, but Nyah assured her that they were not giving up, just laying low to stay out of trouble for now.

“I promise you; we will find out what happened to your daughter,” she promised her.

****

The crisis averted for the time being, Nyah's life settled back into an easy routine. Her morning walks with Matt continued, and though she didn't mention it again, she noted the mornings when he sported new bruises, cuts, and occasional stitches. She had her secrets and was content to allow him to keep his. Work at the women's center kept her busy; apparently the summer heat had an inflammatory effect on tempers throughout Hell's Kitchen. She had very few breaks between cases to investigate the list of missing women that Karen had sent her and the filing system for old cases was in chaos due to a water leak in the file room a few months ago. The files had been boxed up and moved into an empty office for safekeeping and nobody had been able to make time to refile them properly since.

Even her job at the dōjō was picking up. Mr. Yang had been impressed enough with her teaching skills that he added two additional classes to her schedule. The classes were for underprivileged youths and was sponsored by local businesses in the area.

She continued to strive to be more social and cultivate friendships. Her and Karen had lunch together several times over the next three weeks, Matt and Foggy even joined them a couple times. She also joined them a few times for drinks at Josie's in the evening after her classes or on the weekend. Their humor and little dramas lifted her spirits when needed and she enjoyed spending time with them.

Soon, though, the night of the next new moon drew near. On Monday that week, Nyah informed Matt of her impending absence.

“Thursday?” He repeated, his brow furrowed.

“Yep, Thursday. I won't be back until Sunday night.”

“Is there anything you need help with?” he asked.

She was confused by his question. “No, not really.”

He stopped and turned towards her; concern written on his face. “You know, if there is something you need help with, some trouble you are in, I'm your friend and I'm here for you.”

Did he know something, she wondered, or did he just suspect something was different about her? She swallowed nervously.

“Matt, I have no idea what you are talking about. If you have a question you want to ask, just spit it out.”

“I know you have secrets.” He held up his hand to stop her from interrupting him. “That's fine. Everyone has secrets. I just want to make sure your secrets don't put any of my friends in danger. That's all.”

“Secrets,” she repeated when he was done. “Right. How about your secrets, Matt? I may have secrets but mine aren't worn on my face for the whole world to see. No,” this time she stopped him from interrupting. “you keep them and let me keep mine. Just know that I am not the kind of person that would knowingly put other people, whether they were my friends or not, into danger. That is not the kind of person I am. Can you say the same?”

With that last question, she turned and continued down the street towards the women's center, leaving Matt standing alone in the middle of the sidewalk.

****

Matt stood there and listened to her depart. When he could no longer hear her footsteps or her angry heartbeat, he continued to the office. She was right, though, he thought. His secrets did put the people he cared about in danger. If a criminal ever found out his identity, they would become targets to use against him. If the police discovered it, then they could be held accountable by the law. The difference was that they knew his secret and had chosen to remain his friends despite it.

Nyah wasn't giving them that choice and, despite her insistence that she wouldn't put them in danger, he had no way of knowing that for sure. She was leaving him no choice, he decided. He was going to follow her Thursday when she left and find out what she was really doing for those three days and nights.

****

Thursday was even more hectic, if possible, than the rest of the week had been. Her boss had accidentally double booked her that morning, so she spent the rest of the day trying to catch up and get back on schedule, all while giving her clients the best service she could without rushing them.

Her last client of the day was a distraught young woman whose best friend had disappeared two days ago. Jolene Watson tearfully told her that the police had taken her statement, but then told her that her friend, April Simpson, was probably shacked up with some guy or on a bender and would be back as soon as he got tired of her or she run out of drugs.

“But April isn't like that,” Jolene insisted. “She's trying to make enough money to get into culinary school and she doesn't do drugs. She barely drinks even!”

As Jolene told her about her friend, the story started sounding uncannily familiar to Nyah. She ended up explaining to Jolene that the women's center wasn't equipped to handle cases like hers, but she knew someone that did. She gave the young woman a business card for Nelson and Murdock and assured her that they could help.

“I can call them and let them know you are coming, if you want,” she offered as Jolene got up to leave her office.

Her face lit up, “would you? That would be great!”

“Are you going there now?” Nyah asked.

“I have to go back to work, but I will go in the morning before lunch.”

“I'll call and let them know to expect you tomorrow, then,” she assured her.

“Thank you so much!” and the young woman gave her a quick hug then left.

Nyah shut her door and made a quick call to Karen.

“I think I found another missing girl,” she told the blonde.

“Are you sure?” Karen asked.

“Pretty sure. It certainly sounds like it. Her friend, Jolene Watson, will be by to see Matt and Foggy about it tomorrow before lunch, so they can make the call themselves.”

“Ok, I'll let them know and put it on the calendar.” Karen paused for a moment before continuing. “Hey, um, did you and Matt have an argument or something?”

Nyah snorted in an unladylike manner, “I guess you could say that. Why?”

“Well he's been in a mood the last few days and won't talk about it. If me or Foggy brings up your name, he gets all weird.”

“Yeah, we had a difference of opinion, but I'm sure we'll get past it. You've known him longer than I have, what do you think?”

Suddenly Karen's voice changed and became overly cheerful. “Yeah, that will be great! I will put her on the calendar.”

Nyah chuckled softly, “He just walked in, didn't he?”

“Yep,” came her reply. “Hey, why don't we get together tonight and have some girl time?”

“I would love to, but I'm heading upstate to see my mom tonight. I won't be back until Sunday night. Didn't Matt let you know? I told him Tuesday.”

“Tuesday? Oh!” She could tell Karen had put the pieces together.

“You got it,” she confirmed.

“Well, I guess I will see you next week sometime.”

“Yeah, I'll give you a call on Monday and we'll set something up. That girl time thing sounds like a really good idea.”

After she hung up, she wondered how she was going to handle Matt and still maintain their friendship, but a knock on her office door interrupted her thoughts. It was Mrs. Williams, the director of the center. She let herself into the small space and took the chair across the desk from Nyah.

“Nyah, we need to talk,” she started.

“Ok, what is it?”

“Did you just send that young woman to your lawyer friends?”

“Yes, her problem wasn't something we can help with and they can,” she answered truthfully.

“I know you mean well by it, but you need to stop.”

“Why? I asked you if it was okay the first day I was here, and you said yes.” Nyah was confused by her boss's change of heart.

“But that was just a onetime deal. Now it looks like you are drumming up business for your friends when you should be focusing on helping the women that need what we provide. It looks like you have a conflict of interest and it has my boss concerned.” Mrs. Williams leaned back in her chair and gave Nyah a stern look. “Do you want to keep volunteering here, Nyah?” She asked.

“Of course, I do!” Nyah was quick to respond. “I'm sorry, I didn't know there was a problem with it and I only did it this one time. Well, besides Mrs. Vitalidi that first day.”

“Good, I'm glad you understand, because we really like the work you are doing here. Finish up your paperwork and go home. I hope you visit with your mother goes well.”

“Thank you.”

“I will see you on Monday. Good night.” Mrs. Williams rose to leave.

“Have a good weekend,” Nyah responded.

That was odd. Why would anyone care if she sent women to a law office for help the center couldn't supply? She would have to let Matt and Foggy know what was going on and come up with a plan to avoid any further unpleasantries. She did enjoy her work at the center and didn't want to put it in jeopardy, but she also wanted to help as many people as possible. But she had other concerns demanding her attention and she turned her focus on finishing up her paperwork and shutting up the office for the night before heading to the dojo for her class.

Her class ran a bit longer than she expected and it was almost completely dark by the time her last student left. She realized that she would not have time to go home to change before the curse kicked in, so her gym clothes would have to do for the night. She also opted to leave her purse and keys in her locker at the gym for safekeeping.

As she walked out of the dojo, the sun disappeared under the horizon and she started her trek though the city. She ended up at a derelict building close to midnight and joined a handful of junkies getting high on some heroine one of them had scored. She got the first hit cooked up and overdosed on the bad batch of heroine someone had purposely sold. As she convulsed with foam and blood running out of her mouth, the junkies panicked and fled the building, all of them living to see another sunrise. The next morning, the man that would have taken that first hit, checked himself into a rehab facility.


	6. Chapter 6

Matt was pissed the fuck off. Nyah never came home that night. It was almost as if she knew his plan and had acted to thwart it. He knew that was ridiculous, but, still, he was pissed. So, pissed that he got a little more rough than usual with a street thug that was shaking down shopkeepers for protection money. The man ended up in the hospital with multiple broken bones and a serious concussion, but several businesses in the neighborhood opened up the next day with envelops of cash slid into their mail slots or under their doors.

Friday night, Matt broke into her apartment using one of the windows that had not been replaced in a small bathroom on the bottom floor. Walking out of the room, he surveyed the large, open space that comprised the remainder of that floor. The smell of incense filled the area, almost drowning out her unique scent, but it was still there, flitting just on the outside edge of his senses like a faded memory. His steps, soft as they were, filled the space with their echo.

He approached the dais on the north end of the room. He picked up the sword and drew it from its sheath, testing it for weight and balance. For such a long sword, almost three feet, it was surprisingly light, and the balance was perfect. It was an amazing weapon and well taking care of. Putting the sword back on its stand, he investigated the urn next, but quickly surmised that they contained ashes. That left the scroll. Unrolling the brittle paper carefully, he spread it out on the floor and ran his sensitive fingers across it. He could feel the characters inked on it but could not make out the script. He had brought his phone just for this kind of thing and took several pictures of it to insure he was able to capture the entire scroll.

Moving upstairs, the incense grew fainter and her scent stronger. He was able to follow it to her bedroom, where it lingered strongest. All he discovered there were a few pieced of jewelry that felt heavy and expensive. Moving on to her office, he found her laptop, which was beyond his abilities to derive any useful information from. The binder beside it was of more interest and he snapped multiple pictures of its contents. Finding nothing else of interest, he prepared to leave.

He ended up back in her bedroom one last time before he left the apartment, though. He sat down on her bed and laid back into her pillows, burying his face in one to breath in her scent, light floral mixed in with the natural smell of her skin; like sunshine on dry, hot day with a hint of grass, dirt, and sweat, unique like her. There was so much to her story that she was not telling any of them. He was sure there was no mother in a home upstate, no more than Nyah Song was her real name. Was she in trouble? What was she hiding? Maybe the answers resided on his phone now. That remained to be seen.

Matt let himself out the same way he came in and secured the window behind him before he climbed up the two floors to the roof and the access to the stairs. He left the camera in his apartment and left again to hit the rooftops, looking for criminals to take out his frustration on.

****

Saturday, Matt met Foggy and Karen at the office to show them the pictures he had taken. Neither of his friends were happy to be at the office on Saturday, and they were even less happy with the reason for being there.

“You know,” Foggy pointed out, “normal people don't stalk their friends and break into their homes. Nor do they drag their other friends into their stalking activities.”

“Yeah, Matt,” Karen jumped in, “why is it so important to find out what her secret is? Can't you just trust her like Foggy and I do? Maybe she will tell us on her own eventually. I mean, she has only known us for, what, two months?”

“And,” Foggy went on, “we are keeping a pretty big secret from her. I wonder if she breaks into your apartment as goes through your underwear drawer while you are out.”

“One, I didn't go through her underwear drawer,” Matt protested, “and, two, I could smell if she had been in my apartment.”

“What?” Foggy asked in disbelief. “You broke into a gorgeous woman's apartment and didn't go through her underwear drawer? You are going to get kicked out of the secret club for stalkers!”

Karen laughed and then snorted, which made Foggy laugh as Matt sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, trying to look offended.

When their laughter died down, he tried again, “look, secrets are dangerous. Look what me keeping secrets almost did to you guys. I'm just trying to protect you.”

“You keep telling yourself that line of bullshit, and maybe one day you will believe it,” Foggy shot back at him. “But we aren't buying it. It's a mystery that you just cannot stand to leave unsolved.”

Matt opened his mouth to protest again, but Karen stopped him. “Let's just see those pictures so we can get out of here and go back to having a real weekend.”

Matt opened the camera app on his phone, pulled up the pictures and handed it to her.

“Ok, these first ones are some kind of scroll, right?” she asked him.

“Yes.”

Foggy leaned over to look at them over her shoulder. “It looks old.”

“It felt old.”

They couldn't make out what was written on the scroll, but Foggy knew someone at the university that specialized in languages and he agreed to take the pictures to her.

The binder just held newspaper and internet articles about seemingly random accidents over the last five years in three different countries. Karen volunteered to do some more research on them.

****

Sunday night, when the orange crescent of the moon rose above the rooftops of Hell's Kitchen, Nyah woke up on the floor in front of her shrine. Each time she came to after resurrection was different. It depended on the manner of her death. Death by drugs or poison was not one of her favorites. Waking up was like rising through a thick liquid that kept trying to pull her back down. When she opened her eyes, the room spun in an alarming manner and her stomach lurched. She felt sluggish and unsteady, so she lay on the floor for nearly an hour allowing the feeling to pass. Sitting up slowly, she looked down at her gym clothes. They were dirty and stunk from the stench of the flop house and her own bitter sweat and other body fluids. She pealed them off in her kitchen and threw them into her garbage before heading into her bathroom for a much-needed shower.

An hour later, showered and wearing a clean dress, she sat on her favorite chair in her living room, sipping a cup of tea and nibbling a stale scone. She was tired, but not sleepy so she turned her TV on to a news channel and zoned out for a bit. A knock at her door snapped her out of her reverie and when she answered it, Matt was standing out on her landing.

“Matt! What are you doing here?”

He smiled sheepishly, “I thought I heard a noise up here and just thought I would check it out.”

“By knocking on my door? Well, if I were a thief, I would certainly appreciate your consideration,” she laughed at him.

He shrugged with her, “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Nyah's stomach suddenly growled and she realized she was hungry. She smiled and asked, “I haven't had a chance to eat yet, would you care to join me for dinner?”

He nodded, “that would be great, I haven't eaten either now that I think about it. Where would you like to go?”

“How about right here?” she asked. “I'm a pretty good cook.”

“A home cooked meal?” he grinned. “I should interrupt thieves more often!”

They both laughed at his bad joke and she guided him inside to a stool at the kitchen counter so they could talk while she prepared their meal.

“I don't have the time or ingredients to make anything to spectacular, so don't expect a gourmet meal, okay?”

“I'll try to rein in my expectations.”

Nyah poured them both a glass of wine to drink while she made a quick chicken stir fry with asparagus and cashews over noodles for them and Matt told her about a client that tried to pay them with chickens. She laughed until she had tears in her eyes when Matt described Foggy chasing one that had gotten loose around the office while Karen stood on a chair screaming. In the end, it had flown out an open window into the alley and escaped.

“Then Mr. Lee told us that since we lost it, he would deduct it from the five he had promised us as payment!”

Nyah almost spit out the drink of wine she just took. “Really? He was going to dock your pay? For losing a chicken? That is brilliant!”

She made their plates and took them to the table along with the rest of the bottle of wine. While she grabbed napkins and utensils, Matt managed to make his way across the short distance between the counter and the table.

When they were both seated Nyah and had taken a few bites of the meal, which Matt assured her was good enough to be called gourmet, she asked him, “Anything new on Marina Vitalidi?”

“Karen has found a few more missing women that fit the pattern, but other than that, nothing,” he said with a grimace. “Did you have any luck with your search at the center?”

“No,” she replied, “the files there are a disaster and last week was insanely busy. Hopefully, this week I will have an opportunity to start looking.”

“Whoever is doing this, has covered their tracks well, but no crime is ever perfect. We will find something, eventually,” he assured her.

“Yeah, but will it be in time?” she asked. “I can't help but think that whoever is doing this is still out there, kidnapping women. Until we can stop them, no young women in this city are safe. We can't let them keep getting away with it!” Her voice rose at the last statement.

Matt reached out a hand and found hers beside her plate. His hand was warm and calloused but gentle as he rubbed his thumb across the back of her knuckles. “They will pay for what they are doing,” he said in a firm voice.

“How can you be so sure?” she asked him in a quiet voice, not taking her eyes off their hands.

“I just am.”

His grip on her hand tightened causing her to raise her eyes to his face, and for a moment saw a different person from the kind, gentle Matt she was accustomed to. His face was hard and his mouth in a grim line. It was almost, she thought, frightening. Alarmed, she tried to pull her hand away from his and he resisted releasing it, tightening his grip to a point that boarded on painful. Then his expression changed, and the threatening stranger change back into the easy-going Matt she knew. He released her hand with an apologetic look.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to get carried away. But I'm serious about this. People like this have to pay for what they are doing.”

Nyah swallowed, then reached out and tentatively touched his arm. When he didn't jerk away from her hand, she gave it a light squeeze. “It's okay. I just didn't realize how,” she struggled to find the right word, “passionate you were about this.”

“I grew up here. This is my home. Wouldn't you be passionate too?” he challenged.

No, she thought, I ran away from my home, but gave him the answer he was expecting. “Yes, I suppose I would.”

They spent the rest of the evening in easy conversation and watching a movie. It was well after midnight before Matt left her apartment and she crawled into her bed. As she fell asleep, the vision of his changed face followed her.

****

The next three weeks passed uneventfully. Matt and Foggy didn't make any headway in the disappearance and it was beginning to look like she was going to have to break her promise to Mrs. Vitalidi. Nyah's caseload at the women's center let up a bit and she approached the director about the boxes of files. Nobody at the center had the time of inclination to put them back in order and Mrs. Williams was considering just having them put into storage. When Nyah asked if she could do it, her boss was taken aback.

“Why would you want to do that?” she asked with an odd look on her face.

“Well, some of these women have been here several times,” she replied reasonably. “It would be helpful if we had access to their old case files so we could know what help we have already offered. What has and hasn't worked for them. What their history is. Those kinds of things.”

Mrs. Williams considered her argument for a long moment, then nodded her assent, “fine, but it better not come at the expense of any of your cases. We are here to help these women, not be file clerks.”

“Absolutely!” Nyah tried not to look too happy. “I will only work on it when I don't have cases.”

That afternoon, when she had an hour between appointments and no walk-ins, she opened the first box. She was unprepared for what she found. Whoever had transferred the files had not only mixed them up, throwing them haphazardly into boxes, but had allowed the contents of many of them to spill out and become mixed up. The box she opened had a stack of loose paperwork at least three inches thick on top of the folders stored in it. She checked the next box and it was in even worse disarray. She sighed. This was going to take a lot longer than she had imagined.


	7. Chapter 7

Foggy tapped on Matt's door briefly before stepping into his office, Karen right behind him. It had been two weeks since Matt's stalking expedition into Nyah's apartment and they both had news. They were still not keen on his methods, but Foggy had to admit there was something odd going on with their new friend.

“Hey, got a moment?” he asked Matt as they crossed the short distance from the door to his desk.

Matt looked up with a smile, “what is this? An intervention?”

“It should be,” Karen answered.

“We got news about those pictures,” Foggy said, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of his friend's desk. Karen took the other one and he motioned to her, “you go first.”

“So, those articles in the binder,” she started, “we know that they happened in three different cities over the last five years. The oldest ones took place in Atlanta over a two-year period, followed by Warsaw for three years, and then the newest one here in Hell's Kitchen.”

“We already knew that,” Matt pointed out.

“If you will just shut up and let me continue,” she snapped at him.

He held up his hands in surrender.

“So, we know from your previous stalking, that she leaves no trace of herself, so there's no way to track her through her name or internet presence. But I looked at properties owned by that Norwegian company you found, and I discovered they had purchased apartments in each of these cities during the same time frames. And, sold the properties immediately after they started up in the next city. The one in Warsaw sold two and half months ago.” She stopped there to let the information sink in.

“Right after Nyah moved here,” Matt stated what they were all thinking.

“Yeah, but there's more.”

“More?” Matt asked.

“The people in all of these articles, they are not exactly upstanding citizens.”

“What do you mean?”

“They are all from the dregs of society: homeless, addicts, prostitutes, hustlers, petty criminals. People that no one would even care about if they died,” she paused.

“Go on.”

“And most of the articles mentioned that they were saved,” she finished quickly.

“Saved? How?”

“Well, like the newest one from here, some of the witnesses claimed to have seen a woman push him out of the path of the bus.”

They were all silent for a moment. Then Karen continued, “then there's the dates that all of them happened.”

“What about them? They're not all on the same day of the month or even the same day of the week.”

“At first, I thought the same thing, then I noticed something odd about them. They happened about once a month and coincided with the first day of a new moon.”

“New moon?” Foggy finally jumped into the conversation.

“It's when we can't see the moon because the earth is completely between it and the sun,” Karen supplied.

“No, I know what a new moon is,” Foggy said. “What is the significance of the new moon?”

“I looked into that too,” she replied. “Many cultures see it as a symbol of new beginnings and renewal. Others see it as a time of great magic power.”

“And the nights Nyah has disappeared since moving here?” Matt asked.

“Both the first night of the new moon,” she answered. “And from what you've said, she doesn't show back up until the first day of the next crescent moon. She is gone for the entire time the moon is absent from the night sky.”

“Ok,” Foggy said, “let's put this what this is telling us together.”

Karen took a breath, “Nyah moves from city to city saving people nobody cares about on the first night of the new moon.”

Matt sighed, “but that doesn't tell us how or why. Nor does it explain why she disappears for the next three days.” He leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair.

“And it's not like you can ask her about it without telling her you've been going through her underwear drawer,” Foggy added.

“I didn't go through her underwear drawer!” Matt shot back at him, exasperated.

“So you say,” her shot back.

“Okay, you two,” Karen stopped them. “Foggy, tell us what you found.”

Matt looked at him, “you found something too?”

“Yeah, but I don't think it helps as much as what Karen found,” he began.

“Let us be the judge.”

“My friend at the university could only tell me that it was in classic Mongolian script, so she sent the pictures to someone she knew that was able to read it. Apparently, it's a old Chinese legend from the thirteenth century.”

“Did she tell you what it was about?” Matt asked, curiosity showing on his face.

“Yeah, I got it right here,” Foggy pulled out his phone. “According to the internet, there was a Buddhist monk named Wen Lei whose temple was destroyed by Kublai Khan for aiding rebels against the Khan. Lei was taken to the Khan's palace and was forced to teach and train the Khan's men in the art of Kungfu. He spent twenty years in the court and had a comfortable life and was a favorite of the Khan.” He paused here.

“I take it, that didn't last,” Karen put in.

“No, because he fell in love with one of the Khan's daughters, or one of his wives, depending on the version of the story. Anyway, the two lovers hid their love for years from the court until they were betrayed by a servant who saw them together in the garden. Wen Lei was ordered blinded and executed by the Khan.”

“Wow,” Karen breathed, “that's extreme.”

“At this point, the story has several different endings depending on when and who was telling it. In the oldest versions, Wen Lei was executed, and the Khan's daughter or wife spirited his remains out of the palace and ran away. Banished from her home, she wandered, homeless for the rest of her life. Other versions say she was executed with him. And still others say she rescued him by throwing her body atop his so they couldn't kill him without killing her, so the Khan relented and released them.”

“Is that it?” Matt asked, disappointed.

“Well, there is one small thing,” Foggy gave them a weak smile. “All the versions agree on one detail.”

“And that is?” Matt prompted.

“Wen Lei was killed on the first night of the new moon.”

****

The next new moon was Saturday and Matt was determined to follow Nyah and find out exactly what was going on. It was one thing to speculate with the limited information they had discovered, he needed to verify it for himself. Nyah spent the day inside her apartment, so he did the same, keep close track of all her movements. She spent the day cleaning, meditating and doing Tai Chi. Despite his impatience for the day to pass, he found himself once again mesmerized by her graceful movements. She was truly beautiful to behold even without the benefit of eyesight.

At one point during the long day, he heard her quietly talking in a foreign language; Mongolian would be his guess. She was sitting on the floor over him, leaning against one of the columns that supported the ceiling of the room. An object sat in her lap and after watching her movements and hearing the soft turning of pages, he surmised it was a book and she was reading out loud. He wondered, not for the first time, whose ashes were contained within the urn to have inspired such devotion on her part.

As the day drew to a close, she returned upstairs to her bedroom, then quietly left the apartment not long afterwards. Matt went up to the roof after she left the building and began following her. She just wandered aimlessly, it seemed, with no particular destination in mind. She walked through sections that were still abandoned from the incident that Fisk engineered, but didn't enter any of the dark buildings. She went down the street lined with ramshackle houses and littered with abandoned cars. Hour after hour, he shadowed her as she walked unafraid through the roughest parts of the neighborhood.

Around two in the morning, her steps led them to the waterside, near the jetties. As they drew closer, her pace increased, and he had to hurry to keep up. The smell of stagnant water, garbage, and dead fish burned his nose until he could barely detect the scent trail she left in her wake. Up ahead, he heard a scuffle making him hurry ahead of her and, as he came to the edge of the last building before the edge of the water and looked down, he saw three figures struggling. One of the men was older and Matt could smell the filth and alcohol on him from the roof. The other two were young and were trying to wrestle something from the other.

“It's mine!” the man cried out. “I found it in the water!”

One of the young men answered him, “It belongs to our boss and he wants it back!” He raised his hand to strike the other man, but his partner shoved him particularly hard and he stumbled backwards and tripped over a pile of trash, spraying onto the dirty concrete.

“Grab it!” the taller of the two men yelled at the other, but Matt was already on the ground and swung him around, punching him hard in the face.

“What the hell?” the guy yelled.

“It's him!” crowed the old drunk from his position on the ground. “It's the Devil of Hell's Kitchen!” Then he cried out in pain as the other guy kicked him in the side.

Matt was making quick work of the guy he had just punched. He couldn't spend too much time here and chance losing Nyah, but he couldn't turn his back on someone in need of help. He had just swept the feet of the guy out from under him, when he was struck across the back hard enough to stagger him. The taller of the two guys had picked up a chunk of wood and had clubbed him with it. He turned to engage that guy, giving the one on the ground time to scramble up and pull a handgun out of the waistband of his jeans. A quick turn and kick, and the gun was sent spinning away, landing on the ground near the drunk.

The guy with the wood swung it at his head and he only had time to bring his left arm up to block it. The wood cracked against his forearm with a sickening pop and broke in half. Matt was sure something in his arm cracked also. Then the unarmed man jumped on his back, wrapping his arm around Matt's neck in an attempted choke hold. Matt twisted and flipped him over his head, into the other man and they both went down in a tangle of limbs. Matt put the tall man out of commission with a swift kick to his head and turned to the other guy as he stood unsteadily.

“I'll save you!” came a slurred voice from behind the guy.

Matt looked past him to see the drunk swaying on his feet pointing the gun towards them with shaky hands.

“No!” he yelled and shoved the man between them out of the way as two things happened almost simultaneously. Distracted as he was by the two men and the drunk with the gun, he didn't see Nyah approaching them and now she darted in front of him in the space that he had just shoved the man out of just as the sound waves from the shot fired battered his sensitive hearing, effectively blinding him momentarily. He didn't have time to register her scent as it was consumed by gun powder and more visceral scents as he was sprayed with blood, bits of bone, and brains.

Her small body collided with his as it was thrown forward by another bullet through the back and he grabbed her to keep her from falling. His ears were still ringing from the two-gun shots as he eased Nyah's body to the ground then made his way to the drunk using his other fine-tuned senses.

“I didn't mean to,” the drunk was blubbering. “I didn't see her!”

Matt took the gun from him more forcefully than necessary, “Get out of here!” he growled at him and the drunk took off, weaving his way away from the scene. Matt flung the gun into the dark water and turned back to the body lying on the ground. His hearing was returning quickly, but he could not find Nyah's body where he left it. He frantically searched the area, but there was no sign of her. No trace of her scent, no trace of her heartbeat even though he knew it wouldn't be beating anymore.

He heard sirens approaching from a distance and stifling a sob, he swiftly left the scene.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Foggy was pulled out of a nice dream about Karen and him on the beach in some sun soaked tropical location by a harsh banging from his living room. He looked at the clock, it was nearly 3:00 in the morning.

“Crap!” Only one person would be banging so belligerently at his door at this hour and there was usually bleeding or broken bones or both involved.

The banging wasn't coming from his door, instead it was coming from his living room window, the one with the fire escape outside it, confirming that it was his best friend, Matt, on the other side.

He pulled the window open, “come on in, make yourself at home,” he said with as much sarcasm as he could muster at that time of night, heading for the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

“Foggy,” came Matt's voice from the shadows outside the window, “can you get a towel or two for me?”

Taken aback by how shaken his friend sounded, he went back to the window and leaned out. “How bad is it? Do I need to call Claire?”

Claire was a nurse that not only knew about Daredevil's secret identity but was also willing to stitch him up and set his bones when needed.

“No, none of it is mine,” Matt replied, his voice breaking.

“Then just...” he began, but his friend cut him off, sounding as close to panic as Foggy had ever heard.

“Please! Just get me some towels! I need to get this off me!”

Foggy gave in and fetched two old, tattered towels from his bathroom; he wasn't going to give Matt any of his better towels.

He passed the towels out to Matt and then went to make coffee, he figured they would both need it from the way Matt sounded.

When Matt joined him in the kitchen, his had removed his hood, his hair was standing out in disarray and his face was draw and pale. His hand visibly shook as he took a sip of his coffee before setting is down on the counter and collapsing on a bar stool.

“What happened out there?” Foggy asked.

Matt just shook his head and said nothing at first, then he bowed his head and whispered, “she's dead.”

“What?” Foggy wasn't sure he had heard correctly. He knew his friend had meant to follow Nyah tonight and find out where she was going and what she was doing. Surely, he wasn't talking about her. “Who's dead?”

“She's dead.” He said it louder this time. “Nyah's dead.”

Foggy just stared at his friend blankly for a moment, then reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. Matt jerked out from under it and stood, walking a few steps away before stopping. His shoulders slumped.

“What happened?” Foggy asked in a subdued voice.

Matt told him the events of the night, how he had followed Nyah to the waterfront and then engaged the two thugs. When he got to the part where her body fell into his arms, his voice broke and he choked back a sob. When he had himself back under control, he finished the tale with the disappearance of her body.

“I'm sorry, I just couldn't go back to my place and be alone. I needed to be around someone,” he told his oldest friend.

“Okay, so you were sound blind and then couldn't find her body?” At Matt's nod, he continued his line of thought. “Then how do you know she was dead? She could have just been wounded and run away. You are pretty scary when you're in full-on Devil mode.” He reasoned.

“No, Foggy,” Matt insisted, “she was dead. What do you think I just cleaned off me?”

“Are you sure it was her?” he persisted.

Matt spun and went to the garbage can where he had thrown the towels and pulled out the worst one. He plopped it on the counter in front of his friend and opened it up. Foggy's stomach lurched and he had to choke back vomit at the sight.

“Is that.... what I think it is?”

Matt nodded wordlessly.

“Okay, I believe you,” Foggy said, turning away from the mess in the towel. “Cover that up, please,” he asked weakly.

He sat down on his couch and Matt restlessly paced the short distance across the width of the room.

“What do we do now?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Matt asked back.

“I mean, we have to let someone know, right?”

“Who?” Matt stopped his pacing and turned towards him. “We can't find anything on her, no records at all. Her mother in the home is probably made up. Who would we tell?”

“The police?”

“And tell them what? Hey, this woman, whose real name we don't know, got her brains blown all over me while I was out being a vigilante. Oh, and we can't find her body.” By the time he got to the end, he was waving his arms in the air dramatically and almost yelling.

“Shhhh!” Foggy shushed him. “Keep it down, my neighbors are still sleeping!”

Matt started to sit on the couch by Foggy but thought better of it with the condition his suit was in, instead he pulled up a wooden chair from the kitchen table and sat down in it. He rubbed the back of his neck.

Something was nagging Foggy about the whole incident and he had the distinct feeling they were missing something crucial, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Instead, he got up and pulled out a bottle of Bourbon and poured them each a healthy amount in plastic cups. He took one to Matt before taking his place back on the couch.

“What are we going to tell Karen?” He asked after taking a drink of the burning liquid. “We are going to tell her, at least, right?”

Matt sighed, “Of course. But can it wait until Monday morning? Let's not ruin her weekend.”

“Why not? Ours is shot to hell now?” At Matt's look, he back peddled, “I'm kidding. Well about ruining her weekend, not about ours being ruined.”

That nagging sensation returned and Foggy tried unsuccessfully to reason out what it was they were missing. Maybe, he thought, Karen could figure it out. After all, she put together the thing about the new moon.

The two of them sat in silence for almost an hour before Matt took his leave. Foggy couldn’t go back to sleep, so he sat up and waiting on the sun to rise.

****

They had decided not to wait until Monday to tell Karen, so Foggy went over to her apartment later that morning after calling to make sure she was going to be there. She reacted to the story about as well as he had expected, and he held her while she cried. Then he listened while she ranted about Matt putting her in danger in the first place. When she calmed down, he told her about the feeling he had that they were missing something important.

“Missing something? Like what?” she asked, her eyes puffy from crying. Foggy thought she was still beautiful.

“I don't know. I was hoping you could help me figure it out.” He looked at her expectantly.

“What could we possibly be missing? I know I was out of line, blaming Matt for her death. I mean, she put herself in danger over and over, and for a lot longer than he's been doing what he's doing. It was just a matter of time before...,” her voice trailed off and she got a distant look in her eyes. Foggy knew that look. She was putting something together.

“Oh, my God!” she shrieked, jumping up from and going out to her desk. She rummaged around and grabbed a stack of papers and brought them back into his office.

“Look at these,” she said, shuffling through the stack and pulling one out. “This one says there were two witnesses that swore the woman was killed.” She pulled out another one, “And this one says a witness was wandering around looking for the body of a woman when the emergency vehicles arrived. It was written off as shock.” She pulled one more from the pile and slapped it on the desk in front of Foggy. “This is the last one and the bus drivers swears that he hit someone!”

She looked a Foggy and waved the rest of the papers, her eyes shining, “There's story after story here of someone dying, but NO. BODY. BEING. FOUND!” She announced triumphantly.

He shook his head, not following her line of reason, “I don't understand what you are getting at.”

“Don't you see, Foggy? She dies! She fucking dies. Every time. Instead of the person she saves.”

She waited as understanding dawned on Foggy.

“Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

She nodded. “She dies. And then, three days later when the moon reappears, she comes back.”

“Comes back? How?”

“I don't know, Foggy! But it is the only thing that makes sense!”

“What kind of world do we live in when the only solution that makes sense is one where our friend dies and is resurrected over and over again,” Foggy shook his head in amazement.

“A world where we have gods and aliens and superheroes flying through our skies,” she laughed.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Pain. Blinding pain in her head was the first thing Nyah became aware of. Groaning, she rolled and pressed her face to the cool floor, seeking relief. The movement made the world spin on multiple axes and she choked back a dry heave, which sent more daggers of pain through her head. The lights in the room were blinding, even her eyes closed, so she raised one of her hands and covered her eyes. She started to curse the lights, but all that came out was another groan.

Wait, she thought, why are the lights on? Her thoughts felt sluggish and slow, but she was sure she turned them off before she left the room last; she always did. The pain in her head was starting to recede as the resurrection process wound down so she chanced opening her eyes, but the room was still a watery, too-bright blur around her. She rolled over onto her stomach and, bracing her hands on the floor, pushed herself into a sitting position. This time the room spun on just a single axis.

Wiping the tears from her watering eyes, she tried again to bring the room into focus, blinking furiously. When she was able to make out her shrine and the room quit spinning, she clumsily rose to her feet and staggered to a support column and leaned against it. Her vision now just slightly fuzzy around the edges, she surveyed the room and saw three people standing just a few feet away.

“Fuck.” And she slid down the column, back to the floor.

Karen detached herself from Matt and Foggy and came over to squat next to her, placing a hand lightly on hers. “Are you okay?”

Hysterical laughter threatened. “What did you see?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Karen shrugged one shoulder, “not a lot. The room was empty, then you were here.”

“Then I was here?” This time she allowed the laughter. “That is a simple way of looking at it.”

Nyah looked past Karen to Matt and Foggy, who had approached more slowly, like she was a wounded animal that didn’t need to be spooked into bolting. She wasn’t sure she could run if she tried right now. Maybe she could ask them to come back in an hour when she had regained complete control of her body. She laughed again at the thought.

“Hey?” Karen squeeze her hand to get her attention and tried again. “Do you need anything?”

“A new life,” she muttered.

This time Karen was the one that laughed, “Don’t we all?”

Matt squatted beside Karen; concern written on his face. “How bad is it?”

“It’s getting better. I’ll be okay soon,” she assured him.

Matt held out a hand to her, “How about we get you somewhere more comfortable?”

She regarded his hand for a breath then, sighing, took it and allowed him and Karen to help her to her feet. They followed her up the stairs to her living room and when she turned to the kitchen, Karen gently pushed her toward towards the living room.

“You go sit down, I will get what you need,” she said in a voice that didn’t allow any argument.

“I just need water for now,” Nyah told her, turning away and going to her favorite chair and sitting.

Matt and Foggy followed her, Matt taking the other chair and his friend sitting on the couch. They waited in silence while Karen got a glass of water for her. Nyah tried to use that time to formulate some plausible story for what they just thought they saw but came up with absolutely nothing. She was still forming and discarding ideas when Karen walked into the area and handed her a glass. They were looking at her expectantly when she put the glass down on the table by her chair.

She swallowed and started to speak, but Karen stopped her with a raised hand. “Let’s make this easy and tell you what we know, and you can fill in the blanks. Okay?”

Eyes wide, Nyah could only nod and listen as Karen laid out what they had pieced together about her sudden disappearances, that she saved people from dying by taking their place, and the connection with the cycles of the moon. She finished by telling her how they decided to confront her about it and figured the only way to do it was to catch her when she reappeared.

“So,” Nyah said slowly, “you broke into my apartment and just waited for me to…” she waved her hand in the air, “appear?”

“Yep.”

She blew out a breath. “How did you know where I would…. show up?”

“We didn’t,” Foggy answered. “We spread out and waited. Karen was down here and spotted you first.”

It seemed like a reasonable answer, but something about it didn’t add up. She put a mental pin in it for later.

“What did we miss?” Karen prompted her when she didn’t say anything else.

She shook her head and chuckled, “Not much.”

“What we don’t know is why you are doing this and how,” Matt said leaning forward towards her.

Why and how, she thought grimly. Those were the most important questions of all. She had not gone undiscovered all these years, that would have been asking for the impossible. A total of six people had been present when she had resurrected. Two of them had been street urchins that had broken into her rooms looking for a warm place to pass the night and one had been a farmer that discovered her in an abandoned barn. One had been her landlord checking on leaking pipes for maintenance. All of these were easy to escape, since it was before the information age; she just moved. Across the city. Problem solved.

The last two were not as easy. One had been a nobleman that was persistently courting her despite her lack of encouragement. He had thought she was a witch and drug her before the inquisition. That was the first time she had been burned at the stake. The sixth person to witness her resurrection was a man that she worked with in a factory. When she disappeared unexpectedly, he stole her few belongings and had them hidden in his room, under his cot. When she resurrected in the cot with him, he had run screaming out of the room and alerted the entire floor of the tenement. She had to crawl out the window and down a pipe to escape without being seen. This was the last time it had happened, and it was the late 1800s.

These three people, her friends, would not be so easy. She took a chance by making friends and this was the consequence of those actions. She was left with only two options, as far as she could figure. One, she could disappear; get a new identity and move back overseas and resume her solitary lifestyle. That was the safest option. However, with the dawning of the age of superheroes, she now had a second option: she could tell them everything and hope they decided to remain her friends. It wasn’t like it was going to hurt anyone but her. She wasn’t a superhero that had to protect her identity and, hell, the Avengers didn’t even try to do that.

Foggy cleared his throat, breaking her train of thoughts and bringing her attention back to the three of them. She closed her eyes and took a fortifying breath and said a quick prayer to Lei. Then she opened her eyes and told her story.

“My real name is Naimanzuunnadintsetseg, which means Eight Hundred Precious Flowers. I was born to a concubine of the Great Khan. I was his 13th child and of no great importance, even so I was raised on the palace grounds just like all his other children.”

“Wait,” Foggy interrupted, “The Great Khan? Genghis Khan?”

She smiled at him, “No, Kublai Khan.”

“As in Xanadu?” Karen asked.

“Yes, I was raised in Xanadu.” She waited for the next question, knowing it was coming.

“But that was nearly eight hundred years ago.” Foggy was the one that voiced it.

“Yes, Foggy,” she replied. “I am well aware of how long ago that was. If you will allow me to continue, I will explain.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Please, go on.”

“As a child of the Great Khan, I had tutors to teach me all manner of things. Reading, writing, math, history, the arts, politics, religion. You name it, I had a tutor for it. The sons of the Khan were expected to be generals, governors, and other powerful officials, not to mention his heir, Zhenjin. His daughters were to be married auspiciously and used to consolidate his political power. We were all expected to be well educated.”

“While I was still a child, the chief wife of the Khan saw me playing in the gardens by myself, I had just seen a play and was imitating one of the actors who played a Wushu warrior. She noted to the palace eunuchs that I was particularly graceful and maybe I should have a Wushu teacher. Wen Lei a Buddhist monk entered my life at that point. All of my teachers were old and venerable, but Wen Lei was young and handsome, and I was an impressionable girl. I was also very lonely because I had few friends; the other children of the household made fun of me and bullied me because of my mixed heritage.”

She paused in her story, “I do not use this as an excuse, but offer it to explain how I fell in love with a Buddhist monk more than 20 years my senior.”

“I don’t think that love gives a damn about age,” Karen told her.

“Love doesn’t give a damn about anything,” Nyah agreed with her.

“We both fell in love. But he was true to his vows as a monk. We were never lovers. We rarely even touched except when we trained. But in our hearts, we were passionately in love. And with our positions in the household, it was a very dangerous thing. You see, even though the Khan allowed the conquered Chinese people to retain their cultures and religions, he was merciless when it came to rebellion. Wen Lei’s monastery helped dissidents flee south to escape the Khan’s justice. Because of that, he ordered it destroyed and the monks all put to the sword. Wen Lei was only spared because he was not there when it happened. He was already at court teaching Wushu to the Khan’s older sons. My older brothers begged for his life to be spared and the Khan granted it, but he was demoted from teaching them and sent to teach me instead.”

“We kept our love secret for many years. But when I turned twenty-one, I was finally betrothed to a governor of a faraway province that did not care about my mixed blood, only the familial connection to the Great Khan. I was distraught when I told Wen Lei, and he vowed to run away with me and renounce his vows so he could make me his wife. We kissed for the first and only time that night in the garden under the crescent of the waning moon.” Her eyes became distant she reached up to touch her lips as she recalled the memory of his lips on hers.

She regretfully allowed the memory to fade as she continued her story. “There had been a reason we had been so careful, so secretive. The palace is full of eyes and ears. Servants are everywhere. Of course,” she sighed, “one saw our embrace and reported it to the Chief Eunuch, who reported it to the sergeant of the household guards. Wen Lei was arrested that night. I never saw him again.”

Karen had tears in her eyes at this point, “Oh you poor thing,” she sniffed. She made to get up to go hug her friend, but Nyah waved her back down.

“No, don’t,” she smiled with eyes shining with moisture, “if you do that, I’ll start crying and we’ll never get through this story!”

“Okay, but when we are done, I’m going to go buy two buckets of ice cream for us to binge on.”

“Deal,” she laughed.

“Better make that three buckets,” Foggy told her. “We know how this ends.”

“You guys know the next part of the story?” She asked looking at the two of them.

“Yeah,” Foggy said, not meeting her eyes.

“How? The story is not very well known.”

“Remember that part about breaking into your apartment?” he asked.

“Yes, but….” She stuttered, confused. What did them breaking into her apartment tonight have to do with it?

“Well, it wasn’t the first time,” he finished.

“What? You guys broke into my apartment before? When? Why?”

“The last time you went missing,” Matt answered her questions. “We were looking for something to give us a clue on where to look for you.”

Nyah narrowed her eyes at them. “But I told you I was upstate visiting my mother.”

“Go head, Matt, you tell her,” Foggy told his glowering friend. “If she is sharing her secret, we better come clean.”

She looked at Matt expectantly. He looked decidedly uncomfortable when he told her, “I did some searching the first time you disappeared and found out you didn’t exist. Nyah Song doesn’t exist, that is. And if she didn’t exist, I had no reason to believe your mother existed.”

“You didn’t trust me,” she stated flatly.

“Not us,” Foggy quickly clarified.

“No, I was worried about you,” Matt defended himself, “you dropped off the face of the earth.”

“You barely knew me.”

“I knew we liked you and you were a good person,” he countered.

Nyah had no comeback for that. “I think we got off topic,” she said instead. “What do you know of the story?”

Foggy shrugged, “there are several different versions out there, tell us the real version.”

“My father ordered him blinded and banished from court. It should have ended then, but I was young and foolish. When I heard the decree, I ran into the audience hall and threw myself at his feet. I begged him to allow us to marry. When he refused, I screamed at him and told him I would run away and find Wen Lei because we were meant to be together. I challenged the Great Khan in his audience hall in front of servants and palace officials. There was no way that could be allowed to pass unpunished. I was beaten and locked in my room. Word was sent to execute Wen Lei.”

She paused and let her tears fall, “by the time I was able to make good my escape, it was too late. He had been executed and his body cremated. But I had no way of knowing this. I stole a horse from the stables and rode three days and nights to reach the outpost where he was being held. On the third night no moon rose, it was the first night of the new moon. I got lost in the dark. I stumbled across a trading band of Luoli that were being attacked by bandits on the road. The matriarch of the band crawled through the woods to me on my horse with her two youngest grandchildren. She begged me to take them up on my horse and save them. I refused, instead I kicked my horse and turned away.”

“Luoli?” Karen interrupted.

“Gypsies that had traveled into northern China for trading.” She shook her head at her folly. “That is twice that my foolishness cost me dearly. As I rode a way, the old woman cursed me. She said I would never find what I rode to in this world or the next and that I would spend the rest of eternity saving those that others would turn away from.”

“Of course, Wen Lei was gone by the time I got there. All that was left was his ashes. In my despair, I scooped as much as I could into a satchel and fled that dreadful place. I fled west away from the influence of the Khan.”

She paused and poured more wine. “It wasn’t until the next new moon that the curse struck. I had just stopped for the night and was curled up in a ditch about to go to sleep when I was seized by a powerful urge to get up and go somewhere. I fought the urge until it became a physical pain. When I stood up and started walking, the pain receded. Every time I tried to stop or go a different direction it returned. I was only free of the pain when I was walking the direction my body demanded.”

“Where did you end up,” Karen whispered.

“I don’t know,” she answered sadly. “But I ended up in a small copse by a shack where two men were trying to rape the woman that lived there. When I came out of the woods, my pale hair scared them, and they thought I was a ghost at first. In fact, they were so scared that they let the woman go and she was able to run away. I never knew who she was.”

“It didn’t take them long to get over their fear once they realized I wasn’t a ghost and they were angry that the other woman got away. So, they grabbed me, and…. Well, you get the picture. Afterwards, they slit my throat and left me to die. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the ditch where I started.”

“At first, I thought it was just a bad dream, then I thought I was going mad, but over the next few months, when it happened over and over again, I came to realize what was happening.”

She looked up from her lap and looked at her friends, “I’ve spent the last seven hundred years dying once a month in the place of someone else and coming back to life three days later wherever the nearest stash of Wen Lei’s ashes is.”

“Does it hurt?” Karen asked.

Nyah looked her in the eyes, “every time.”

When she saw tears in the blond woman’s eyes, she quickly added, “how bad depends on how it happens. This last time was almost instantaneous. Waking up here during the resurrection process actually hurt more.”

“Wait,” Foggy jumped in, “it hurts when you come back, or get resurrected, or whatever?”

She nodded. “Yes. Once again, though, it depends on how I died. Apparently, this time it was some traumatic head injury of some kind, because I had a monstrous headache and my eyesight was really screwed up for a bit.”

“Traumatic head injury?” Matt repeated with a distraught look on his face, then quickly got up and left the room. Karen jumped when the door of the apartment slammed.

Nyah looked at the two on the couch, “I know, it’s a lot to take in.”

“Yes,” Foggy sighed and got up to follow his friend, “and, no. I’ll go talk to him.”

When the door shut behind him, Nyah turned back to Karen, “Are you alright?”

Karen looked at her in disbelief, “Nyah, you just DIED! I should be asking you if you’re alright, not the other way around!”

She shook her head and smiled sadly, “I’ve been doing this for a long time, Karen. I would like to say I’m used to it, but I really don’t think you can get used to dying over and over. But I’ve made peace with it.”

Their quiet conversation was disrupted by the raised voices of Matt and Foggy through the door followed by a muffled thud of something hitting the wall.

“He doesn’t seem to be taking it well,” Nyah commented.

Karen looked uncomfortable, “Well, he has some other issues that are weighing on him. Give him a bit. He’ll be okay.”

She nodded but didn’t look convinced. “I hope so.” She went on in a quiet voice, “I’ve never made friends before, you know. I was too scared of someone finding out.”

Karen got up to go over and kneel in front of her. Taking her hands, she said, “I’m glad you did. This is a huge burden to have to live through alone.” She gave Nyah’s hands a squeeze. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Tear filled Nyah’s eyes again and ran down her cheeks. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Karen. “I’ve always felt so alone,” she admitted.

Karen returned the hug and Nyah slid off the chair and onto the floor beside her. They just sat there on the floor hugging each other, until the door of the apartment opened and Foggy came back in.

He looked down at them, “Are you guys okay?”

They both nodded, tearily, and detangled themselves to stand up.

Karen asked the question they were both thinking, “How’s Matt?”

“Well, he’s upset to say the least. But not at you, Nyah,” he hastened to assure her. “It’s the whole dying and feeling it thing that has him twisted up. Give him time, he’ll be okay.”

“Thank you,” Nyah said and gave him a hug too.

He returned it and rested his head on top of hers. “I’m sure you’re tired and need to rest or do whatever it is you do after you come back. Why don’t we get out of here and leave you to it?”

She stepped away from him and wiped her eyes. “Yeah, I need a shower.” She looked at both of them, “Thank you guys so much. I never realized how much I needed human contact until I met you. Thank you, guys, for not freaking out, because I think I need your support.”

They hugged one last time before Karen and Foggy left. After Nyah locked the door behind them, she leaned back against it and smiled. She had never planned to tell them her secret, but now that it was out, she felt lighter, freer. Pushing herself away from the door, she headed towards the bathroom for a long shower.


	10. Chapter 10

Matt was definitely not okay. He had stormed out of the room because he wanted to strike out at something, anything. She felt it every time! Every time! How many times had she had to endure it happening over the years? It just seemed monstrous, even to him.

Her death kept running through his head. How he never heard or smelled her approach. The spray and smell of her blood. Her limp body in his arms. Having to pick bits and pieces of her out of his hair. Over and over.

He regretted taking his anger out on Foggy, but he should have just let him go. He would have to apologize to his friend tomorrow, but for now he had other problems. He pulled himself up painfully to Claire’s window. Luckily, her lights were on, so she was home and he would not have to go across the neighborhood to find her at the hospital. He stumbled up the last flight of steps on the fire escape, the blood loss starting to take a toll. He leaned heavily against the building as he rapped on her window.

“Shit!” he heard her say inside, her heart rate jumping in alarm. Then the window opened and the mixed smells of soap, betadine, rubbing alcohol, and her light perfume wafted out to him.

“Matt?” she called out to him.

He bent down to climb in her window, but his legs gave out from under him and he tumbled through the opening gracelessly. Claire leaned over him and said something, but he couldn’t understand her as consciousness fade into silence.

****

The next morning, feeling better than she ever had after the new moon cycle, Nyah made her way down the stairs to meet Matt for their morning walk. She hummed the tune to a song she had listened to as she dressed and did her hair. When she reached the landing outside his apartment, Matt was not outside waiting for her as usual. She waited a few minutes and then knocked on his door. No sound came from within the apartment to indicate he was moving around in there. After a few more minutes, she pulled her phone out of her purse and called his cell phone. It went straight to voice mail.

“Hey, Matt, this is Nyah. I’m outside your apartment and you aren’t here. If you’re mad at me or something, you could have the common courtesy to tell me to my face. Or maybe even text me. Or something.” She sighed. “Avoiding me is juvenile, Matt,” she finished then hung up.

When she got to Matt and Foggy’s office, she went inside instead of continuing to the women’s center. Karen was just sitting down at her desk with a fresh cup of coffee when she opened the door.

“Good morning, Nyah!” She said a little too cheerfully.

“Good morning,” she answered, glancing over at the closed door to his office. “Is Matt in yet?”

Karen blanched, “Um, no, he isn’t going to be in today.”

“No?” She leaned a hip against the desk. “Is it about last night?”

“Last night?” Karen repeated in alarm.

“Yeah, you know, my story and him storming out,” she clarified.

Karen turned an alarming shade of red and chewed on her lip before answering. “Oh, no!” She stammered. “It’s not that. He’s um, he’s sick. He called in sick this morning.”

“He called in sick?” Nyah asked, her voice heavy with disbelief.

“Yeah, he must have caught some bug at court. That place is a petri dish full of germs!” Karen was sounding more confident in her excuse. “I hope he didn’t give it to any of us!”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” she responded with no small bit of sarcasm. “Oh, I get the hint. I’ve got to go to work anyway.” She pushed herself away from the desk. “See you later.”

“You too. Have a good day!” Karen called after her as she left the office.

How odd.

****

Now that Nyah had permission to go through the files at the women’s center, she was able to look for the names of the young women that Karen had emailed her. In the next two weeks, she was able to sort through and file three boxes. Three of the names on the list had files at the center, and she made photocopies of them between clients. There were still over ten boxes to go through, but she was starting to make progress. She would take the copies of the three files home that night and go through them looking for anything that might shed light on their disappearances.

When she went down the stairs the next morning, Matt was standing outside waiting on her with an apologetic look. He looked more pale than normal and leaned heavily against his door. When she got closer, she could see a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Nyah went up to him and placed a hand on the side of his face, gently cupping it.

“You look like shit. What are you doing out of bed?” She asked him

He gave her an unconvincing smile, “Thanks, I worked hard to look this good this morning.”

“No, really, you are clearly not feeling well. Let’s get you back in bed, okay?”

Matt didn’t protest as she took his keys to unlock his door and steered him back inside. When he stumbled, she put an arm around his waist to help support him, but he flinched and jerked away from her touch. Looking down at her arm, she saw a smear of blood on it and that his shirt had blood on it.

“What the hell?”

“It’s nothing,” he told her as he eased himself down onto his couch.

“Nothing? You’re bleeding!” She almost shouted at him.

He flinched but insisted, “I’m okay.”

“No.” she replied, kneeling beside him and grabbing his shirt to pull it free from his pants. “No, you are not okay.”

He pushed her hands away, but she persisted until she got his shirt untucked, then started working on the buttons.

“Nyah, stop.”

When she didn’t stop, he shoved her away from him. “I said STOP!”

Her balance and reflexes were fast enough that she was able to keep from falling over even though she stumbled back a few steps from the force of his shove.

She stood there a moment looking at him in disbelief before she turned on her heel and walked out to the apartment without saying anything.

****

She didn’t see him for the rest of the week. She met Karen and Foggy for drinks after work on Friday and went shopping with Karen on Saturday, but they steadfastly avoided talking about Matt. The next week, she was irritated enough with him, that she left early for work on Monday just to avoid meeting him on the stairs.

Tuesday morning, she decided she was being just as childish as he was and someone had to be the adult, so she returned to her normal routine. As expected, Matt was waiting on her. She paused to appraise his appearance. He looked much better as stood there waiting on her. He gave her a slightly crooked smile as she came to stand in front of him and it struck her suddenly how attractive he was. She had quit seeing anyone as attractive a long time ago when she realized her life would not allow for intimate relationships. Now that she had been honest to him, Karen, and Foggy, maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t outside the range of possibility.

But she told herself sternly, there was still a lot of secrets clouding the air.

She stopped and peered up at him, “I don’t suppose you are going to tell me what happened, are you?”

He shook his head, “Not now. Maybe someday.”

She sighed, then shrugged. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

Their walk didn’t have the same ease that it usually had, but it was still better than walking alone, she thought as she bade him to have a good day at his office and continued to the women’s center.

That week, she went through four more boxes and found two more files on girls on the list, so she decided to share what she had found with her friends. She called Karen Friday and asked if they could wait at the office until she got there. After finishing with her last case, she was gathering up the files and purse when her cell phone rang. It was Mrs. Vitalidi just checking in with her. She was still struggling, but her family back in Greece was being very supportive and have been sending her money. If the worst happened and she was deported, they were also prepared to provide her with a place to live.

“I hope it doesn't come to that, Mrs. Vitalidi. We are doing everything we can to find your daughter.”

“I have no doubt you will. My family has a long history of finding allies that get us through our darkest times, and as Tsiganoi there were a lot of them. Even today, we are viewed as not entirely Greek.”

“Tsiganoi? That's not a word I am familiar with,” Nyah said as she searched her memory.

“You probably know us better as the Roma,” Mrs. Vitalidi told her.

Gypsies! She was helping Gypsies. She almost groaned out loud. Mrs. Vitalidi and her daughter were members of the people that had cursed her all those centuries ago.

“Vitalidi isn't a Roma name, though,” she said.

“No, my great-grandmother married out of the tribe during the war in an attempt to protect the family.”

“Did it work?” She asked.

“Yes, and no. The men were still taken, but the women were spared, including my Grandmother. My family is very resilant,” Mrs. Vitalidi explained. “They had to be. We were persecuted everywhere we went. That is why we are so scattered now. We have always searched for a place we could call home and feel safe.”

That is something Nyah could understand. They chatted for a few more minutes, then she took her leave of the woman. Nothing had changed, despite knowing they were Gypsies. She was still going to help Mrs. Vitalidi find her daughter. She wouldn't fail this Gypsy mother.

Assuring the older woman one more time and ending the call, Nyah grabbed the files and her stuff and left her office. She ran into Mrs. Williams on the way out.

“What do you have there?” her boss asked, eying the files in her hands.

“Oh, I just have some paperwork on some cases that I need to finish up. I figured I would do it sometime this weekend,” Nyah made up the lie quickly and hoped Mrs. Williams wouldn’t object.

“You really shouldn’t waste your time off on paperwork. Save it for Monday if you want.” The older woman smiled.

“Oh, it’s ok. I don’t have anything to do Sunday morning, and this won’t take much of my time.”

Mrs. Williams shrugged, giving up, “It’s your time off. Do what you want.”

“Thank you. Have a good weekend,” Nyah smiled at her.

“You too.” She responded.

Nyah hurried to the law offices of her friends, knowing that they were waiting on her.

Once they were all seated around a small table in the corner of Matt’s office, she pulled out the files and laid them on the table.

“What did you find?” Matt asked.

“Well, the files are in a mess, like I told you guys, but I have gone through seven of the boxes and I have found files on five of the women that are missing,” she stated.

Foggy and Karen both picked up a file to look through its contents.

“Did you find anything in the files?” Karen asked.

“Nothing more than what we already knew: Young, living alone, no family around.”

“Nothing else?” Matt pressed.

“No, no other things in common.”

“Except that they were all seen at the women’s center,” Foggy put in.

Karen had put down the file she had and picked up two others. “These three were all seen by the same case worker, something Williams.”

Foggy flipped back to the first page of his file. “This one too.”

Nyah picked up the last file, flipped it open and read the name of the case worker. “Shit,” she said.

She sat back in her chair. “But that really doesn’t mean anything. There are only four of us working there right now and before me, there were only three, and only Mrs. Williams, the director, was working there full time. So, it’s not outside the realm of possibility that this is just a coincidence. Plus, we don’t know if I will find the rest of the women on the list.”

“You’re right,” Matt supported her argument. “Unless you find files for the rest of the women, this doesn’t tell us anything yet.”

“Thanks,” she said, relieved that he didn’t think she was just defending her boss. “I will keep looking, but there are still a lot of boxes to go through, so it’s going to be at least two or three more weeks before I know for sure.”

“Do you have a key to the place?” Karen asked.

“Yes, I do,” she replied not understanding.

“Why don’t you and I go in on Sunday and finish it?”

“What? You want to go to the center on Sunday and go through the files? Do you know how much trouble I would get into if I was caught letting you even see these files? They are confidential, you know.”

“Who is going to catch us?” Karen challenged. “Look, we are getting nowhere on this case. The police are not helping. In fact, they are covering it up. We need a break!”

“Karen’s right,” Matt said. “It’s your decision, but we need something. Anything.”

Nyah looked at Matt, then Karen. They were both looking at her expectantly. She looked to Foggy for support. “Foggy, you are always the voice of reason. What do you think?”

He blew out a breath before speaking. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I kind of agree with them. It’s starting to look like we are going to run out of time before we get Mrs. Vitalidi any answers about her daughter.”

“Okay,” she threw up her hands dramatically, laughing. “I give up. I’m beginning to think having friends might be more trouble than it’s worth,” she teased.

“Nah,” Karen said, “we’ll grow on you.”

“Like mold,” Foggy added, which made her laugh even more.


	11. Chapter 11

Sunday, she met Karen for breakfast at the diner. They chatted while they waited for their order and Karen sipped her coffee.

Karen motioned to Nyah’s tea, “You don’t like coffee?”

“No, I never developed a taste for it. It didn’t become widespread until I had been around for a couple of centuries, so I stuck with tea,” she explained. “I never became a big fan of soda’s either.”

“But you like alcohol? Like wine and liquor?” she asked.

Nyah looked offended. “We may have been the Mongol Horde, but we weren’t barbarians!”

Their food arrived while they laughed at her joke. As they started eating, Nyah broached the subject of Matt.

“So, are you guys ever going to tell me what is going on with Matt?”

Karen had the decency to look embarrassed and put down her fork, “Matt’s secrets are his. It’s not my place or Foggy’s place to share them.”

“But you know,” she made it a statement, not a question.

“Yes, and it nearly ended everything. When Foggy found out, he was pissed off at Matt for weeks. Then, when I found out, I was pissed at both of them for a long time. We had just got back to where we were before you moved here.”

“That bad, huh?” Nyah commented as she took another bite of egg and bacon.

“You have no idea,” Karen assured her. “Hell, if you remain friends and stick around for a while, there’s a good chance you will find out on your own eventually. He kind of sucks at keeping it secret.”

“Well, the constant bruises, cuts, and random bleeding is pretty obvious,” she said dryly. “If I didn’t know better, I would say he was trying to be a superhero and failing miserably at it.”

Karen choked on her food, then laughed at her comment.

After paying for their breakfast, the two of them walked to the women’s center. Karen hung back a block, while Nyah approached the offices and unlocked the door. She did a quick check to make sure nobody was there and waved to Karen to join her.

Karen stopped in the doorway of the storeroom. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. This is a mess.”

“Hey, this isn’t bad compared to how it was when I first started. I’ve cleared out almost half of it already,” she said as she opened one of the boxes and started pulling out files.

Karen picked another box and opened it. “If you say so,” she said dubiously.

Three hours later, they had finished going through all the boxes and had all the files put away. On a table in the corner of the room sat a pile of files that they kept out. Every name on the list was in the pile. Nyah sent Karen to get the guys and meet her at their office while she copied the files and put the originals away. She was gathering up all her stuff when she heard the front door of the center open.

“Hello?” her boss called out.

Nyah quickly put all the files in her desk, then stepped out into the hall. “Hey, Mrs. Williams. What are you doing here?”

The older woman shot her a severe look. “I got a call that there was someone in the office on a Sunday, so I left my family to come make sure someone wasn’t breaking in and stealing office supplies and computers. Why are you here?” she demanded.

“I’m sorry, I told you I was going to do some work today, though,” Nyah answered her.

“I thought you meant from home, not here in the office, by yourself! This is highly irregular.”

Nyah looked confused, “What is wrong with me being here today? I have a key.”

Mrs. Williams crossed her arms across her chest, “I think you need to go. I’m going to have to think about your actions.”

“Am I in trouble?” Nyah asked incredulously.

“That remains to be seen.” Mrs. Williams held out her hand palm up, “Give me your key and leave.”

Nyah removed her office key from her keychain and handed it to her boss, then with a concerned glance at her desk, she hurried past the woman and out the door.

****

After Nyah left, Mrs. Williams went into her office and raffled through her desk. When she found the copies of the files in the drawer, she flipped through them, noting the names on each. Standing, she took the files to her office and threw them down on her desk. Then she pulled out her cell phone and dialed.

“We have a problem,” she said to the person that answered.

****

Karen, Foggy, and Matt were waiting for her when she got to their office.

“Where are the files?” Karen asked her when she came in empty handed.

“My boss came in after you left and read me the riot act. I stashed them in my desk when I heard her, so I can get them later.”

“Was she suspicious?” Matt asked.

“I don’t think so, but she did blow me being there all out of proportion,” she shrugged. “Or at least I hope so.”

“But we found the link between all the women,” Karen interjected. “I was telling the guys that every woman on that list had been to the women’s center.”

Nyah nodded, “yes, and Mrs. Williams was the case manager for all of them.”

Foggy slapped the table, “well, I think we are beyond the realm of coincidence now.”

The other three nodded in agreement.

“What now?” Nyah asked them.

“Now,” Foggy answered, “we start investigating her and see what we can uncover. Find out if there is a link to detective Maroney or any other cops.”

“You guys said you thought there might be more missing women that what has been reported, right?” Nyah asked, an idea forming in her mind.

“Yes,” Karen answered.

“How about this week, I make go through the files and start a list of every woman that Mrs. Williams has managed for the last two years and we check on them? If she is the link, then we should be able to find more missing women.”

“That’s a good idea,” Matt agreed, “but you need to be careful. If she is responsible, you don’t want to make her suspicious.”

She nodded her agreement, “definitely, not.”


	12. Chapter 12

Monday morning, when she arrived at the women’s center, there was police sedan on the street out front and Mrs. Williams was in the waiting room talking to Detective Maroney.

“Nyah, can you come to my office please?”

“Sure, just let me put my stuff away and I will be right there,” she replied turning to continue down the hall.

“That won’t be necessary,” Mrs. Williams said. “Follow me.”

She followed Mrs. Williams into her office and the detective came in and shut the door behind him.

“Nyah, this is Detective Maroney,” Mrs. Williams said by way of introduction.

“We’ve already met,” Nyah told her, edging away from the large man.

“I’m going to get right to the point. We have had several computers and lots of supplies go missing over the last two months. At first, I thought it was the cleaning crew, but after I came in on Sunday and caught you here by yourself, I’m not too sure.”

Nyah looked at her blankly, “What? You think I am the one stealing from you? Because I was here on a Sunday catching up with my paperwork?”

“Miss Song, you have to admit it looks suspicious. The thefts started after you began volunteering here.”

“Really?” she asked in disbelief and turned to her boss. “Why is this the first time I have heard about these thefts?”

Mrs. Williams shrugged. “I don’t have to discuss all the business of this center with you volunteers.”

Maroney stepped closer to her, “turn around and put your hands behind your back, Miss Song.”

“Hold on,” she said in alarm. “You’re arresting me? You have no evidence!”

“Are you resisting arrest?” he asked her threateningly.

“I’m going to call my lawyers,” she said reaching into her purse for her phone.

Maroney responded by pulling his gun and pointing it at her. “Put your hands in the air and turn around!”

Nyah froze and looked down the barrel of the gun, then put her hands in the air and turned around. Maroney wasn’t gentle when he cuffed her and tightened the cuffs so that they pinched her wrists painfully, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of voicing her pain.

He hauled her out of the offices, the other two volunteers and the women waiting to be seen staring at after them. He shoved her into the squad car and went around to the driver’s side. At the police station, she was processed and put in a small room, her cuffs attached to a bar on the metal table. For the next two hours, she sat in the hard, uncomfortable chair as she waited for someone to come in and tell her what was going on.

Finally, the door opened, and Maroney walked in and sat down across from her. She met his stare and refused to look away as he smirked at her.

“You just can’t take a hint, can you?” he said.

“Lawyer,” she answered.

He gave a harsh laugh that echoed in the small room. “You watch too much TV,” he told her.

“I want to call my lawyer,” she said again between gritted teeth.

“Oh, you will get to call your lawyer,” he paused, “when I let you call him. I bet it’s that blind guy, isn’t it? You have a thing for blind guys?”

She refused to answer him and stared at a spot over his shoulder.

That made him chuckle. “You going to play tough now, huh?”

When she still didn’t answer, he stood up. “I’ll just let you sit here and consider things for a while.” And he left the room, the door locking behind him. Nyah kicked the leg of the table in frustration.

The time dragged by, but she used meditation techniques to take her mind off the pain in her wrists and shoulders. If Maroney expected her to break over this, he didn’t know who he was dealing with.

He came back into the room after two hours had passed. “You ready to be cooperative now?”

“Lawyer,” she said again.

“Look, Sweetheart, I can do this all day and all night long. Can you sit there for that long? Do you need to pee yet?” he asked in a nasty tone.

“Do you think I won’t pee on this floor?” she asked him is a soft voice.

He grinned at her, “we’ll see.” He left the room again.

She was pissed off now. This whole charade was just to intimidate her, embarrass her. It was harder to reach a proper meditative state this time because of her anger.

Maroney made her wait longer this time. Three hours later, almost to the second, he came back into the room. By this time her wrists were raw from the cuffs, her shoulders were nothing but a knot of pain, and her bladder was screaming for relief.

“Now, where were we?” he said as he came over and perched on the table by her.

“What exactly do you want?” she bit out.

“That’s better,” he smiled down at her. He leaned closer to her, his breath smelling of coffee and cigarettes, “I think you might want to consider moving out of Hell’s Kitchen and going somewhere else.”

“You aren’t just going to make me disappear like the others?” she asked looking him in the eyes.

He shook his head, “you are one stupid bitch!” He put his hand on one of the cuffs on her wrist and ground it into her flesh. She gritted her teeth until they hurt to keep from crying out.

He stood up to leave again, releasing the pressure on the cuff. When he got to the door, she called out in a weak voice.

“Wait.”

He turned and looked at her expectantly.

“I get it. I understand,” she told him.

“Oh, I know you do,” he replied as he walked out and closed the door behind him.

Two hours later, she could no longer hold back and allowed her bladder release. As the urine ran down her legs and puddled on the floor at her feet, she knew she should be mortified by having to pee on herself, but that was what Maroney wanted. She had also been through a lot worse over the years, so in the grand theme of things, this didn’t amount to much. Instead she pictured numerous ways to end Maroney’s life, and she had a lot of examples to choose from. At this point she could almost get behind the idea of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but she knew that was just the anger talking.

Now that controlling her bladder was no longer taking all her concentration, she was able to meditate to take her mind off the pain in her hands and shoulders. As the hours passed, her clothes dried out as did the small drip of blood pooling on the table under her tortured wrists.

Maroney made her wait 5 hours this time. When the door banged open, Nyah did her best to look thoroughly cowed. She slumped in her chair and put a glazed look on her face. He stood across the room assessing her for a few moments, then nodded his head.

“I think you are going to be a bit more cooperative now,” he said with satisfaction.

Nyah just nodded her head slowly and grimaced in pain, that at least wasn’t an act.

Maroney walked over to stand over her and took a deep breath, “Damn, you stink!” Then he reached down and unlocked the cuffs, releasing her.

“You’re free to go. They have your personal effects at the front desk. Try not to track piss through the whole place,” he laughed as she stood, swaying in place before she regained her balance.

She collected her purse and cell phone from the desk clerk and left the station. She checked the time on her phone. It was after 9:00 at night. She had been locked in that room for over thirteen hours! She was lightheaded from both thirst and hunger, but she could take care of that when she got home.

As she walked the several blocks to reach her apartment, she didn’t notice she was being followed. As she turned down a particularly dark street, a figure stepped out of an alley in front of her, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting on her to approach. She slowed and took a deep breath to clear her head and assess the situation. Glancing behind her, she finally noticed the other person behind her. The other side of the street was better lit, so she quickly turned and sprinted across the street. Both men followed her, trying to cut her off, but she made it to the other side ahead of them. In her current state, she knew she couldn’t possibly outrun them if they were in any shape at all, that left losing them somehow. The alley up ahead was lined with cars, garbage bins, and other debris and offered the best option for her to hide. She ran into the alley still ahead of both men and collided with a third person waiting in the shadows.

She took a quick step back, right into the one of the other men who had come up behind her.

He grabbed her arm in a bruising grip and breathed in her ear, “Maroney wants us to make sure you completely understand who’s in control here.”

Nyah calmed her breathing and spread her feet for balance, then she spun, kicking the man in front of her hard in the side of his knee and bringing her elbow up to smash the guy holding her in the nose. The first man’s knee bent at a painful angle and he went down, writhing on the dirty pavement and the second guy released his hold on her arm to grab his nose. She continued her spin and put her back against the side of the building and faced them, ready to continue.

The third man entered the alley, and the guy she elbowed in the nose yelled at him, “Bitch broke my fucking nose! Get her!”

He looked at the man lying on the ground, holding his injured knee, and the other with the bleeding nose and laughed, “idiots!” Then he lunged at her. He was a lot bigger and stronger than she was, but she was well trained and faster. She got in several good hits and he backed off to consider his options. Broken Nose walked up to him and handed him a tire iron he had found and brandished a wooden handle from some tool at her.

“Let’s see how you do, now, Bitch!” He growled as both advanced on her.

She was able to hold her own for several minutes, using her speed against them, but her dehydration and low blood sugar were beginning to affect her reactions and she was slowing down and her vision was becoming blurry. She knew she was in trouble when Broken Nose landed a pain blow across her shoulders followed by the other guy catching her in the side of the head with the tire iron. It was a glancing blow, but it staggered her.

While she was trying to catch her balance, another blow caught her behind her knees and she fell to the ground, catching herself with her hands and rolling to the side to try to regain her feet. A foot collided with her side, sending her sprawling in a dank puddle and smacking her forehead painfully on the pavement.

Nyah didn’t know how long the beating went on, but they finally were content that she had gotten the message they were sent to deliver and got her back for the injuries she had initially inflicted on them and they left her lying in the shadows of the alley.

At the mouth of the alley, one of them turned and said, “Maroney says you have two days to get the hell out of the Kitchen.”

She listened as their steps receded and then just lay there trying to catch her breath and assess her injuries. She was sure she had a couple of cracked ribs and probably a broken nose and forearm. She was unsure about a concussion; the dizziness and headache could just be from dehydration. She wouldn’t rule out the possibility though.

When she felt like she could move without passing out, she crawled over to a dumpster and used it to pull herself to her feet. She found her purse in a pile of garbage where they had tossed it. She was only three blocks away from her building, she reasoned she could make it. Moving slowly and using the wall when she could, she started towards the mouth of the alley.

Before she emerged from the alley into the light from the street, she heard a light tread behind her. Great, she thought, someone either came back for more or I’m about to get mugged while I can’t do anything about it.

She turned slowly to confront the new threat, and slowly made out the figure standing only a few feet away. It was a man in a maroon and black body suit with intricate buckles and straps and a mask over the top half of his face. She recognized him from the waterfront, when she had stepped in front of him and died in his stead: Daredevil.

As she made the identification, a new wave of dizziness swept over her and she started sliding down the wall to the ground. Strong arms caught her before she collapsed completely, and the world went dark.


	13. Chapter 13

Matt had heard the fight in the alley and the parting comment from the thug from two blocks away. He had been about to follow the two men helped carry a third, injured man away, but he heard the groan of their victim and could tell they were seriously hurt, so he went into the alley to help them instead. As he got closer, he realized her recognized this person, despite her scent being masked by the filth of the alley and urine and her heartbeat was definitely not the steady, regular rhythm he was used to.

He wanted to run to her, but he knew she did not know him as the Devil and she didn’t approve of what he did as such, instead, he watched from the shadows as she pulled herself up and started laboriously making her way out of the alley. He could tell she wasn’t going to make it far in her condition, so he took several steps to come up behind her and make himself known.

When she turned and recognized him, he knew she had given up and wasn’t going to put up a fight, then she started to slump. That jolted him into action, and he caught her before she fell. He carefully lifted her into his arms and went further into the alley to find a dark path to follow to their building.

**** 

Consciousness returned to Nyah slowly and painfully. Her head, ribs, arm, and wrists were throbbing and there were numerous other smaller aches and pains clamoring for attention. She groaned and raised a hand to her pounding head and encountered bandages. She tried to sit up, but a pair of warm hands pushed her back into the bed.

“You need to stay still for a while. You’ve got a nasty concussion,” a woman’s voice she didn’t recognize said firmly.

She risked opening her eyes and was relieved to find the room mercifully dark. She could make out the outline of the woman standing over her.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“I’m Claire and I’m a nurse,” came the answer. “I’m going to turn on this lamp, ok?”

“Sure,” Nyah replied.

There was a click and the room was filled with a soft light that still hurt her eyes, but she squinted through the sharp jabs of pain to look around her.

She was in her own bed in her apartment. How did she get here, she wondered? The last thing she remembered was the vigilante catching her as she fell. Did he bring her home? If so, how did he know where home was? She supposed he could have gone through her purse and found something in it with her address, but she wasn’t sure if there had been anything like that in it.

Someone moved into the line of her sight; a lovely young black woman kind eyes and a concerned frown on her face.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

Nyah brought a hand up to gingerly feel her bruised face and felt a tug on her arm. There was an IV attached to it, the bag of clear liquid hanging from the headboard of her bed using a clothes hanger.

“Like I just got the shit beat out of me in an alley,” she said dryly.

“I hope the other guy looks worse,” Claire chuckled.

“Oh, I did a number on their hands with my face,” she quipped back, trying not to laugh.

Claire laughed for her, then sobered up. “I need to check your responses,” she said holding up a small pen light.

As she checked Nyah’s eye movements, she continued, “you were pretty dehydrated, so I put you on an IV for fluids. This is the second bag, I think after this one, I’ll take it out.”

She put the light away. “You have a pretty good concussion; you should go to the hospital and get a CAT scan and be monitored by a doctor.”

“Don’t they have to report something like this to the police?”

“Only gunshot wounds,” Claire answered. “You also have cracked ribs and a broken arm. I did fix your nose while you were unconscious.”

“Thank you,” she told the woman. She wasn’t going to tell her that in a couple of weeks, she would be good as new. And if she happened to die from the concussion before then, well, she would still come back on the first day of the crescent moon.

“I’m not going to ask what happened to you, I’ve learned not to ask questions,” Claire said matter-of-factly. “Go back to sleep. Try not to move around too much the next few days if you decide not to go to the hospital. I’ll take the IV out before I leave.”

“Thank you,” was all Nyah could think to say again.

“Don’t thank me,” Claire glared at the darkened doorway into the bathroom, “thank him. He’s the one that called me to come tend to you. He SHOULD have taken you straight to the hospital, though.” She shook her head and walked out of the room.

In the doorway, she paused and turned to Nyah, “you might want to consider getting new friends or moving somewhere safer.” Then she walked out and shut the door behind her.

“That’s the third time today I’ve been told to move,” she muttered.

A movement from the dark doorway drew her attention, and she frowned as the familiar figure moved into the light a bit.

“I suppose I do need to thank you, though it would have been nice if you had gotten there about ten minutes earlier,” she shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position where a few less places on her body hurt. Failing, she huffed and gave up.

“I was three blocks away, stopping a break in at a pawnshop,” he said as way of explanation. “By the time I was aware of your attack, it was over.” He looked at the floor as if ashamed.

His voice was rough and deep, but somehow familiar, as was how he held himself. She felt as if she knew him. Maybe if she could draw him out on the light a bit more, she thought.

“I wasn’t blaming you,” she told him. “Not even the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen can save everyone. Besides, I know exactly who to blame and, believe me, he is going to get what’s coming to him,” she finished darkly.

“You knew the guys that did this to you?” He asked. He started to take a step forward but stopped himself. Damn.

“No, but I know who sent them,” she replied.

“Who?”

She almost told him Maroney’s name, but then reconsidered. He handled everything with violence and, even though she hated Maroney, that went against every fiber of her being. No, she wasn’t going to give him a name, she would take care of this herself. The right way. She was going to nail that pig and put him behind bars for a long time.

She shook her head slightly, wincing at the pain.

“Tell me,” he demanded, sounding angry.

“No.”

He turned and punched the door frame, and she jumped. The door immediately opened, and Claire stepped in.

“Do not be upsetting her! She has a concussion!” she admonished him. “If you can’t do that, then you need to leave.” She crossed her arms across her chest and waiting for him to answer.

She could hear him take a breath to calm down.

“Turn off the light,” he told Claire.

She shot him a dirty look but didn’t argue. When she turned off the lamp and darkness reclaimed the room, he darted across the room and out the door. A moment later, she heard the door to her apartment close behind him.

“Not very friendly, is he?” Nyah said to the nurse.

“Not really,” she agreed. “Get some rest,” she said as she left the room.

**** 

When Nyah woke up the next time, Karen was sitting by her bedside and it was daylight outside.

“Hey,” her friend said when she noticed Nyah was awake.

“Hey,” she responded. She still felt like hell, but the IV was gone so maybe she could move around and find a comfortable position.

“Are you thirsty?” Karen asked her.

She was very thirsty. “Yes, please.”

She took the glass that was offered and took a cautious sip using the straw. When that didn’t cause her any pain, she quickly drank most of the water, then handed it back to Karen to set on the table by the bed.

Seeing the concerned look on her friend’s face, she asked, “how bad do I look?”

“Like you were used as a punching bag by the Hulk,” Karen replied without cracking a smile.

Nyah snorted softly, “that’s how I feel, too.”

Karen sat down on the edge of her bed being careful not to jostle her too much. “Do you want to tell me what happened to you?”

“You mean our local man in spandex didn’t tell you?”

“Not much,” she shrugged. “He didn’t see what happened, he only got there after it was all over.” She sat quietly, waiting for Nyah to speak.

“I really don’t feel like telling it twice, and I know the others are going to want to know, so how about we wait until the whole gang is here and I feel a bit better?” Nyah hoped that Karen would agree because she really felt like shit and just wanted to sleep for the next week.

She was a little surprised when Karen nodded and said, “you have a point and you look like you are about to pass out again.” She smoothed back Nyah’s hair. “Go back to sleep. We’ll talk later.”

She had no problem complying.

****

When she woke up next, it was dark outside. She had a feeling it wasn’t the same day, though, because she felt a lot better. She was still in a lot of pain, but she wasn’t nearly as disoriented and lightheaded. She sat up slowly and reached for the glass of water on the table by her bed and took several long drinks. She heard voices in the living room and assumed it was her friends.

She gingerly swung her legs over the side of the bed, taking care not to use her broken arm. This time the movement did make her head spin a bit, but it quickly subsided. The door of her room opened, and Karen peeked in.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked as she stepped into the room.

“I need to go to the bathroom, and I draw the line at peeing on myself more than once a week,” Nyah told her as she tried to stand up. Her body refused to cooperate and halfway up, she collapsed back onto the bed. She hissed in pain and wrapped her good arm around her ribs.

When she could speak, she looked up at Karen, who was looking at her in an ‘I told you so’ kind of way, “some help would be nice.” 

With a sigh, she came over and helped Nyah get to her feet, then supported her to the bathroom. “Yell when you’re done,” she commanded.

When she was finished, she contemplated getting a shower, but was already feeling drained by the short trip. She felt disgusting and wanted to be clean, but it would have to wait. She was able to pull herself up, and was shuffling to the door, when there was a cautious knock on it.

“I’m coming. Give me a sec,” she called out.

Once again, the door opened, and Karen peeked in. When she saw that Nyah was standing, she pushed it open and held up a plastic stool.

“I thought you might like to try to wash off a bit,” she said.

Nyah’s eyes prickled and she blinked several times to banish the tears that threatened. So, this was what having friends felt like. It had been so long since anyone had cared about her comfort, she didn’t know how to respond. She just nodded wordlessly.

Twenty minutes later, feeling clean but exhausted, she was back in bed. Karen had also considerately changed the sheets while she was in the shower, so she wasn’t surrounded by the smell of urine, blood, and sweat anymore. She managed to drink some more water before she slid back into unconsciousness.


	14. Chapter 14

She opened her eyes and peered at the full moon shining overhead. A warm breeze caressed her face as she lay in the cool grass in the moonlight. She was back in the garden at the palace. Turning her head, she saw Lei sitting beside her in the grass. His dark eyes were shadowed as he watched her.

“You made friends,” he stated simply.

“Yes, I decided to quit surviving and start living,” she said, sitting up. In the dream world, all her injuries were gone, and she could move around without pain.

“You’ve made enemies also.”

She nodded. “I want to make my life matter.” She paused, trying to put into words what she was feeling.

“I save someone once a month, but I have no control over that. I want to have control over my life as much as this curse allows, so I want to help people voluntarily. Does that sound crazy?”

“No, Little Bee,” he smiled. “It sounds like you are finally growing up.”

She laughed, “it only took me 700 years!”

He nodded sagely, “Everyone does things in their own time and their own way.”

They sat in comfortable silence and listened to the sounds of the garden at night around them.

Lei was the first to break the silence. “You need to take down the shrine.”

Nyah looked at him in alarm. “No!” she said forcefully. “I love you and I need you! I will always love you! I won’t take it down. I won’t forget you.” Her voice trailed off into a whisper.

“You think you won’t remember me or love me if you take down the shrine?” he simply asked.

She didn’t have an answer, so she huffed and crossed her arms across her chest like a petulant child.

“It has you locked in the past. In order to let go of the past, you need to let it go. Let me go,” he gently told her. “Letting me go doesn’t mean you don’t love me. It doesn’t mean you forget about me.”

Tears rolled down her face dripping on her hands. She couldn’t take his probing gaze, so she looked down at her lap. She didn’t want to agree with what he was telling her, but she knew in her heart that it was true.

“Little Bee, listen to me. You need to build a life that makes you happy. When was the last time you were happy, truly happy? Search your heart and you will know the truth of what I am saying,” he echoed her thoughts.

She nodded miserably, tears freely flowing. Then he was beside her, pulling her into his embrace. She clung to him and wept until she was drained, then she just allowed him to hold her. She breathed in his familiar scent, still fresh in her mind after all the centuries that separated them.

Finally, he pushed her away, tipping her head up to look into her eyes, “You need to wake up now. Your new life is waiting for you,” he said with a smile.

She smiled up at him, “I will always love you.”

“I know. But you need to make room in your heart for others now. Wake up.”

She stretched up and placed a chaste kiss on his lips as the dream faded.

****

She blinked her eyes at the sunlight streaming in the window. Her clock on the table read 1:35 pm. She briefly wondered what day it was and how close it was to the next new moon. A soft snore interrupted her musing and a smile came to her face at the sight of Matt slumped in as chair that had been drug into her room and positioned at the foot of bed. He looked entirely uncomfortable stretched out in the chair with his head leaned back at an awkward angle against its back.

Her smile faded as she took in the dark circles under his eyes and the drawn look on his face despite being relaxed in sleep. He looked like he hadn’t slept well for days. She wondered if someone had been with her constantly since she was brought here by Daredevil. From the way Matt looked, they had. She felt a twinge of guilt.

She sat up to make her way to the bathroom again. When the sheet dropped away, she realized she was wearing just a pair of panties and tee shirt that did nothing to cover her. But Matt was blind, so he couldn’t see anything that was exposed, so she threw the sheet back, stood and made her way slowly to the bathroom, trying to keep a hand on a piece of furniture or a wall along the way for support.

When she was finished, she pulled the tee shirt over her head and discarded it on the bathroom floor. Out in her room, she opened her closet and selected a simple slip dress made from silk and pulled it on. Smoothing it over her hips, she turned back to the bed and came to an abrupt stop. Matt was sitting up in the chair with an odd look on his face.

**** 

Matt hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but between trying to find the men that attacked Nyah and helping Foggy and Karen sit with her, he had gotten very little sleep over the last three nights. He had been so out of it, that he never heard her get up, but the flushing of the toilet woke him up. At first, he was alarmed because he wasn’t in his apartment, but as he filtered through all the sensory input flooding his brain, he realized he was in her room.

Just then, the door to the bathroom opened and she walked out. She never turned to look at him and he was going to say something to alert her that he was awake but was struck by her state of undress. She wasn’t wearing anything buy her panties. He could ‘see’ the heat that radiated from her skin, the injuries to her ribs, arm, and head warmer than the surrounding skin, but not warm enough to indicate infection.

She turned towards him, catching him gaping.

“Oh, sorry, Matt, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I was trying to be quiet,” she told him.

He swallowed and replied, “that’s okay. I needed to get up anyway.” He rolled his head to work any kinks out.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

He stood and stretched. “It doesn’t matter.” He moved past her to the door. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

She didn’t answer immediately, “Hey?”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “What?”

“I asked if you were hungry,” he repeated.

“Yeah, I think I could eat an entire cow right now,” she smiled.

“Well, I don’t have a cow handy, but I can whip up something if you think you can make it downstairs.”

This surprised her. “You cook?”

He grinned, “Scared?”

She returned his grin, “maybe.”

“Come on, then. Let me dazzle you.” He held out his hand to her.

She giggled at that and crossed the room to take his hand with her small, delicate one and allowed him to lead her from the room.

**** 

“I can’t eat another bite,” Nyah announced, pushing the plate away from her to remove the temptation. Her head was still throbbing, but it was bearable right now.

“Are you sure? I think I hear a cow out on the street?” he teased her.

She giggled again. Really? Since when did she giggle?

The meal had been good even if it was simple: seared salmon, green beans, and a salad. She had eaten two helpings and still wanted another. Matt had once again entertained her by telling her stories about him and Foggy during law school.

His phone rang and he answered, “Hey, Karen. Yeah, she’s awake.”

He listened for a moment, “no, we’ve eaten, but I bet she would eat desert if you brought something.”

“Oh, no!” Nyah protested and reached over to grab the phone from him. He deftly moved out of her reach and stood up. How did he do that?

“Yeah, she said something about eating a cow, so that will be fine,” he smiled into the phone.

“Matt!” she cried getting up, “stop it! Give me that phone!” She made another attempt to grab it, but he just put a hand in the middle of her chest and help her off. His hand was warm on her bare skin above the vee of the top of the dress and she leaned into it.

“Ok,” he said with that same odd look he had earlier, “see you guys in in a bit. We’re at my place. Then he hung up and tossed the phone on the table beside them.

They just stood there as if frozen, then he quickly withdrew his hand, causing her to stumble forward a step. He moved forward to catch her and they ended up chest to chest. Well, her chest to his midsection, since she was so much shorter than him. He reached up and tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear and cupped her head with his hand. She leaned her head into its warmth, closing her eyes. He drew her towards him, and she allowed it rising up on her toes a bit. But then he adjusted his grip and his fingers grazed the knot on her head and pain exploded.

She reacted with pure instinct, bringing up her hand and shoving him hard backwards while sweeping his feet out from under him with hers. She jumped back as he hit the floor with a thud.

“Fuck!” she cried, cradling her broken arm, the one she had used to shove him, and her head pounding painfully. She backed up until she was against a wall and slid down it to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees and leaning her head against them.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she almost chanted trying to fight back tears and control her breathing.

There was a slight groan from Matt as he regained his feet. She heard him come over to where she sat on the floor and lower himself to the floor to sit beside her.

“Are you okay?” he asked her softly and put a hand gently on her back.

“Not really,” she answered truthfully. “I just reacted to the pain without thinking.”

“You didn’t break me,” he told her putting his arm across her shoulders and pulling her into his side. “I’ll just have to remember never to piss you off,” he joked.

She leaned into him and tucked head under his chin where she could feel his heartbeat under her cheek and smell his clean scent and allowed him to hold her until the others arrived.

****

“Wow,” Foggy said into the silence that followed Nyah telling them what happened at the police station with Maroney and the alley.

“He’s not even trying to be subtle,” Karen added.

Matt was up and pacing the room with angry energy. He looked like he wanted to hit something.

“He gave me two days to get out of Hell’s Kitchen, and it’s been three days, so I suppose I can expect some more unpleasantness soon,” Nyah told them.

“We are not going to let them do anything to you!” Karen said reaching over and putting a hand on her knee. “Can we get him for false imprisonment or something?”

Foggy ruffled his already messed up hair. “I’m afraid it won’t be that easy. He’s obviously been doing this for a while, so he will have covered his trail. I doubt any of the camera’s in the holding room were one and anyone that knew Nyah was there is probably in on it or won’t talk.”

Matt spoke up from his position by the window, “No, we are not going to be able to pursue this through legal channels. Not yet. We have to tie Maroney and Williams to the disappearances.”

Nyah understood what he was saying. “That means we have to figure out what happened to these women. And I have to stay out of their crosshairs or chance another beatdown or worse.”

“We have to find a place for you to stay where they can’t find you,” Karen insisted.

Nyah blocked out the conversation as it continued around her. She had a plan forming. If they could catch Mrs. Williams in the act of abducting someone and follow her, they would learn a lot more than they already knew. But it could be days or even weeks before another woman was abducted. How could they ensure they were there when it happened? Setting up a 24/7 watch on the director would be a huge drain on their resources; it took everything they had just to sit with her for three days.

How could they guarantee they would be there?

A terrifying idea came to her. It might work. They would hate it, though, and wouldn’t let her do it. Hell, she didn’t want to do it, but she didn’t have much of a choice. Not if she wanted to continue to live her and be with her friends.

She noticed the others had quit talking and looked up to see them staring at her.

“Are you okay?” Karen asked.

Nyah gave her a slight smile, “I’m just tired and my head is hurting again.”

Karen got up, “Well, it’s getting late anyway, and we have one more day to work this week, so we better be going.” She rounded up the guys, said goodbye, and herded them to the door.

Matt was the last one out. He paused at the door and looked back towards where Nyah stood, waiting on them to leave. It looked like he wanted to say something, but he just told her goodnight and shut the door behind him.

Nyah immediately went to her computer and started preparing for the upcoming new moon. She only had three days.


	15. Chapter 15

Over the course of the next four days, Nyah stayed cooped up in her apartment. To give herself some breathing room with Maroney and his goons, she hired a moving company and had them box up and take most of her furniture to a storage locker outside the city. She asked Matt to take Lei’s ashes to his apartment and hide them, just in case Maroney decided to escalate to breaking and entry. She reluctantly packed away the rest of the shrine and sent it with the movers.

Karen and Foggy delivered what few groceries she needed and they of them ordered in two of the nights and all four of them ate together at her apartment. She thoroughly enjoyed it and was growing more comfortable around them. Their joking and laughing was contagious and, despite the threat that loomed over her, she was happier than she had ever been since the curse began.

On Saturday the package with the items that she had ordered arrived and she spent the afternoon configuring the them and installing the programs for them on her computer. By the time Sunday dawned, she was as ready as she was ever going to be.

That evening, Karen came over for a little while and they watched a movie and ordered pizza. Nyah was impatient for her to leave so she could carry out her plan but made herself wait patiently so Karen wouldn’t become suspicious. That was the last thing she needed. If Karen suspected she was up to something, she would tell Matt or Foggy and then they would stand watch over her and she would lose the opportunity and have to wait a month before she got another chance; if she got another chance.

The four of them had yet to address the 500-pound gorilla in the room: the new moon was Monday night. She would have to leave her apartment then, she had no choice in the matter, and she wasn’t sure how they would handle it. This would be the first new moon since she told them about her curse, and it might not have occurred to them yet.

No matter. If her plan worked, she wouldn’t be back until the crescent moon rose in four nights.

**** 

After Karen left for the night, Nyah got ready for bed as usual, but set her phone alarm for 1:00am and laid out clothes and shoes before she turned off the lights. When her alarm roused her, she got dressed without turning on the lights. She didn’t put her shoes on until she reached the bottom of the stairwell; Matt had unusually good hearing and she didn’t want to chance him hearing her and interfering with her plan. And she knew he would. If she had shared what she intended to do with the three of them, they certainly wouldn’t have allowed her to carry it out. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to herself, but she couldn’t see any other way to put an end to both the kidnappings and the threats against her and them.

Her next stop was at Matt and Foggy’s office where she deposited a letter in the drop box for them to find the next morning. By then, her plan would either be in executed one way or another. Then she continued on to the women’s center.

She knew from her time working there that the door that opened to the alley had a faulty lock and with a little patience and luck she was able to jimmy it open. Once inside the offices, she turned on a couple of lights. Stealth was no longer her intention. Her plan hinged on someone noticing the lights and reporting it to Mrs. Williams. In the director’s office, she placed a listening device under the desk where it would not be easily found unless someone was specifically looking for it.

While she was waiting to be discovered, she wanted to make the most of her time by going through the files and identifying as many other women that met the victim profile so they could possibly expand the list of missing women. When she opened the file room door, she stopped in the doorway. The room was completely empty; there were no file cabinets to be seen. She quickly checked the rest of the offices and didn’t find the files. They had been moved which wasn’t surprising in retrospect.

With nothing else to do, she hid her phone in the waiting area and settled down to wait. Fortunately, she didn’t have long. Less than an hour after she entered the offices, she heard the front door open. She was in her old office, making a show of going through the desk when the door was flung open and banged loudly against the wall.

She didn’t have to act startled when she turned and saw detective Maroney in the doorway.

“You really are a stupid bitch,” he snarled at her and advance into the office.

She edged away from him, trying to keep the desk between them. “I left some personal stuff her and didn’t get a chance to get it last time,” she offered as a weak excuse.

He just snorted and followed her around the desk. She took the opportunity to dash out the door, only to run into a second man. He had a nose that had recently been broken and she recognized him from the attack in the alley.

“Were do you think you’re going?” he leered at her as he made a grab at her.

She managed to dodge his grasp, but Maroney was behind her by then. She was trapped between them and prepared to put up a fight when something hard hit her on the back of her head and the world went black.

****

Nyah came to in the trunk of a car with her hands cuffed in front of her. She had planned on this and with a little contortion was able to slip her new bracelet off her wrist and tuck it under the corner of the mat, hoping it was inconspicuous enough to be missed. The bracelet had a GPS tracker that would transmit its location for the next four days; then the battery would die, and it would be useless. Until then, the program on her computer could track everywhere this car went.

She listened for sounds outside the car as it drove through the city, but nothing jumped out at her. She couldn’t help but think Matt would be much better at this and would probably be able to identify exactly where he was just by the street sounds. It all just blended together to her and she gave up after a few minutes of straining to identify anything specific.

The movement of the car had almost lulled her to sleep when she felt it slowing down and making a right turn onto what sounded like gravel. At the slam of the doors, Nyah closed her eyes and pretended to still be unconscious. The trunk opened and rough hands grabbed her and unceremoniously drug her out of the car and dropped her on the ground. She landed with a painful thud despite trying to catch herself with her bound hands. A heavy foot pushed her over onto her side and she glared up at her tormentor.

Maroney looked down at her, “Yeah, you’re awake. Get up!” he commanded her.

When she was slow responding, he reached down and yanked her to her feet then pushed her towards the rundown warehouse they were parked in front of. It looked derelict with many of the windows broken out and boarded up and garbage and debris in scattered piles against its peeling walls. The door hinges screeched in protest when Broken Nose opened it for Maroney to shove her through.

When he turned on a flashlight to light their way, Nyah could see that the building was in even worse condition on the inside. Water dripped and pooled in oily puddles across the pockmarked floor and more garbage littered the interior. The three of them had to skirt around partially collapsed walls and rubble that had fallen from the ceiling high overhead. A wall deep into the interior of the building seemed more or less intact and their destination was a metal door set into it.

The hinges on this door must have been better taken care of because they did not protest being used like those on the outer door. Once inside and the door shut behind them, Maroney flipped a switch by the door and a single bulb suspended from the ceiling illuminated the room with a sickly yellow glow that left the corners of the room in shadow. The room was marginally cleaner than the rest of the warehouse and contained a ratty old couch, a small table surrounded by three chairs, and an old TV in the corner. A skinny man with bad skin was sitting at the table playing solitaire and smoking a cigarette when they came in. Apparently, he was expecting company because he barely looked up to acknowledge them.

“Everything quiet?” Maroney asked him.

“Yeah, one of them started crying, but it didn’t take much to make her stop,” he said taking a drag of the cigarette and flicking the ashes onto the floor.

Maroney snickered, the pulled Nyah over to one of the three doors lining the wall opposite the door they entered. Unlocking it with a set of keys hanging on the same wall, he opened it and, unlocking her cuffs, shoved her into the room and shut the door behind her.

She stood still and let her eyes adjust to the dark; the only light source was from a tiny window high on the wall in the back of the room, so the room was almost completely dark. She could hear others around her, but, apart from a couple of sniffles, nobody said anything. They were probably scared to death. After a few minutes, her eyes had adjusted all they could to the darkness, and she could make out a few shapes on the floor. Three, maybe four, mattresses were along the walls, all but one with a body lying on it.

Carefully, she shuffled over to the empty mattress and sat down on it. Looking around, she could see two sets of eyes reflecting the weak starlight.

“Hi,” she said barely above a whisper, “I’m Nyah.”

“Shh,” one of the lumps hissed at her.

“Fuck off, Becky,” a set of eyes to her right hissed back. “I’m Juanita.”

“Megan,” said the girl with the sniffles.

“Are we the only ones here?” she asked.

“Don’t know,” sniffed Megan.

“How long have you been here?”

“Shh,” Becky hissed louder this time.

“Becky, if you shush us one more time, I’m going to come over there and smother you with your pillow!” Juanita threatened.

Megan giggled.

“It’s okay,” Nyah told Juanita. “We have enough problems without turning on each other in here. Let her be.”

They sat in silence for a while. Finally, Nyah heard a door shut, followed by the sound of the TV.

Juanita must have heard it to because she responded to Nyah’s question. Through their whispered conversation, she discovered that Juanita had been held the longest, nearly a week now, and Becky had been there for four days. Megan had only been there for a day and was having a hard time of it. Cigarette Man had been in twice now to slap her around for crying and making a fuss. All three women had been to the women’s center and their case worker had been the director. Juanita had been thrown out by her boyfriend and Mrs. Williams had made a call to a women’s shelter to get her a bed for the night and called an Uber for her. Only the driver wasn’t really an Uber. Instead he had driven her to this warehouse and had dragged her in at gun point.

Becky had gone to the center to get help escaping her pimp, and Mrs. Williams had offered to have her driven to the bus station. She had even given her the money for bus fare. But, once again, the driver brought her here and taken the money from her. Megan’s story was almost exactly the same. None of the three had anyone in the city that would care enough to report them missing to the police.

While they talked, Nyah slipper her necklace over her head and slipped it into a hole on the side of her mattress. Like the bracelet, its pendant had a GPS tracking chip that would transmit its position until the battery died. In the morning, Karen should find her letter at the office. In it was an explanation of her plan and instructions for accessing the program on her computer to track the devices. Hopefully, they would call the police and all of them would be rescued before lunch. If there were other places women were being kept, the chip in the car would help find them.


	16. Chapter 16

Matt watched from the rooftop on the other side of the street until Karen left the apartment building, then he followed her to ensure she made it home safely. He had been impatient for her and Nyah to wrap up their evening because he knew where he could find Detective Maroney and didn’t want to lose him. Matt had been tracking him every night since the attack on Nyah but had yet to discover anything incriminating and he was getting frustrated at the lack of progress.

Once Karen was safely inside her apartment, he swung back by Nyah’s to check on her one last time. Her lights were off, and everything indicated she was in bed, so he headed to the bar that Maroney had been frequenting almost every night since Matt had started stalking him.

Shortly after 1:00, his target walked out of the bar with another detective from the same precinct. Instead of crossing the street to his car, the two turned left and walked three blocks up the street before entering a dark alley. Matt followed from the rooftops above them.

Another man was waiting for them in the alley, half hidden in the shadows.

“What is so damn important?” Maroney demanded as the two detectives drew near the other man.

The man stepped out of the shadows and Matt saw that it was one of the men that had attacked Nyah. He stepped out onto the fire escape to get closer to the three men.

“We got to move the cargo tonight,” the man answered Maroney.

“Why tonight?” asked the other detective.

The man shrugged, “don’t know. I don’t ask questions. I just do what I’m told.”

“This is bullshit!” Maroney spat. “Everything is set up for Monday night.”

“Do you want to call him and tell him no?” he asked.

“Fuck!” was the only answer he got.

Matt had crept down the fire escape and was directly over them, hidden in the shadows. So, Maroney wasn’t in charge. He was just another goon following orders. Who was pulling the strings? He thought that if he could get the one man alone, he could take him out and get his cell phone. There might be something useful on it that could lead them to the ringleader.

Maroney’s phone chimed, breaking the silence. He looked at the text and spat again.

“God damnit!” he snapped as he tapped out his response. He motioned to the other detective, “we gotta go. Now.” He looked at the other man, “We’ll make the arrangements. Have the cargo ready to go.”

The two of them turned to leave, and Matt shifted to position himself to go after the lone guy. Suddenly, a car two blocks away backfired, the sound echoing through the night like a gunshot. All three men dropped into crouches and pulled their guns, scanning the alley for threats. Matt would have gone unnoticed in the shadows, but his luck was apparently shit that night because a car drove past the alley at that moment, and its lights bathed the fire escape he was on in light. The other detective spotted him.

“Hey!” he shouted, raising his gun and firing it at Matt. The other two followed suit.

Matt was trapped on the escape with no cover, so he took the only option available to him: he jumped off the escape into a dumpster two stories below him. Landing hard in the smelly confines of the dumpster, he was momentarily shielded by the steel sides from the gunfire, but that wouldn’t last long. Pulling himself up, he vaulted out and launched himself at his closest opponent, the messenger.

Keeping the guy between him and the two detectives, he quickly disarmed him and tossed the guy deeper into the alley. A couple of well-placed punches and a good kick and the man went down; however, a lucky grab on his part had him ripping Matt’s mask off his face. Now, he faced the armed men with nothing between them for cover and no mask to hide his identity from them. He dove to the side of the alley and dodged behind the dumpster. A bullet ricocheted off the side and clipped him in ribs before he could reach safety.

From his concealment, he could see a path down the side of the alley that kept in the shadows and behind piles of trash and two abandoned cars. Hearing the two men split up to circle his hiding place, he had to move fast. Shoving the dumpster hard and sending it careening into the man closest to him, he took off at a dead run down the side of the alley, dodging obstacles and trying to keep something between him and the men.

Shots rang out from behind him and he felt a sharp, burning pain in his left arm, but soon he reached the end of the alley and sprinted up the street to the next alley to put distance between him and his pursuers. Hidden in the darkness, he paused and listened for them.

He could hear them out on the street arguing over chasing him or investigating some kind of break in several blocks away. The second detective finally convinced Maroney that he was long gone, and they needed to go. He listened as they retraced their steps back down the alley, and up the street to the car.

After they had pulled away and he could no longer here the sound of the car, he made his way to the nearest fire escape and pulled himself up it. Neither of his wounds were serious, the one in his arm went completely through the muscle without damaging anything important and the one on his ribs was just a flesh wound, but they were both bleeding profusely and painful. Without his mask he couldn’t risk going to see Claire at the hospital, so he would have to tend his wounds himself at home.

It took him longer than normal to traverse the blocks back to his apartment. Inside, he barely bandaged his wounds before the blood loss caught up with him and he collapsed on his couch. As the world faded around him, a thought nagged at the back of his mind: something was not right.

****

Nyah was just beginning to doze off along with the other three women, when the door to their prison banged open and a voice said, “get up! We’re leaving!”

Her three cellmates clambered to their feet quickly, but Nyah groped the edge of her mattress in panic. They were being moved. She needed the GPS tracker. Her fingers found the edge of the hole where she had hidden it and she dug her fingers into it trying to find the chain it was attached to. She felt it with the tip of her finger, but a rough hand grabbed her by the hair and yanked hard, bringing tears to her eyes.

“I said, get the fuck up!” he snarled at her as he drug her to her feet and shoved her towards the door so violently, that she stumbled and fell to her knees, scraping them and her hands of the rough concrete floor. He came up behind her and pulled her to her feet with a bruising grip on her arm and pulled her out into the room with the others.

Besides the three women she had been locked up with, there were two other women huddled with them. All were young and pretty. As expected from her accent, Juanita was Latina, her dark eyes soulful despite the fear she could see in them and the dark circles under them. Both women from the other cell were African American, one short and voluptuous, the other tall and willowy. Becky was blonde with blue eyes with a calculating look on her face. Her arms had scaring on them that spoke of drug abuse in the past, but no recent marks, so she was probably in recovery. Megan was a small brunette with big brown eyes and was sporting a swollen lip and a bruise on her cheek. Her eyes were bloodshot and her nose red from crying.

“Ok, we are going to go for a ride,” Maroney said, dragging her attention from the women. “You are going to be quiet and not give us any trouble or we will put a bullet in your head and dump your body in a ditch. Understand?” He pointed his gun at them for emphasis.

When all the women had nodded their understanding, the three men quickly cuffed all six of them, then he motioned to the other man to open the door and lead the way out. There was one other man with them, the one with the broken nose from her attack.

He glared at her as she passed. “Go ahead and run, Bitch. I dare you,” he sneered.

She ignored him, staring straight ahead. What was she going to do now? Her plan hinged on the GPS leading others to her location. If she wasn’t here, would they be able to track her to the new location? She had no idea, but there wasn’t anything she could do without putting one or more of the others in danger. She would just have to hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

They were herded into a van and cuffed them to bars welded to the sides. Broken Nose climbed in with them while the other two got into the front. As the van started and pulled out onto the street, Nyah once again questioned the wisdom of her plan. Once they were on the road, Broken Nose, moved through the captive women, rubbing his body against them and fondling them. When he reached Nyah, he pressed her against the side of the van and grabbed both her breasts and squeezed them painfully.

“I can do anything I want to you and you can’t do anything about it,” he breathed in her ear, his stale breath hot on the side of her face. He trailed on of his hands down to the waistband of her jeans and slid it inside them. The feeling of his clammy hand against her made her skin crawl, but she had been through worse over the centuries; this she could endure. He pinched the tender flesh hard, making her flinch, then licked the side of her face, leaving a sticky trail of spittle from her jaw to her eye.

Before he could do more to satisfy his sadistic nature, the van turned and he was jostled away from her and into Juanita, who caught his elbow in the side of her face and cried out in pain.

Maroney turned around in the passenger seat and glared at Broken Nose, “don’t damage the good, damnit! Nobody wants a woman all bloodied up, you idiot!”

“Some of them don’t give a damn what they look like as long as they can do whatever they want to them,” he retorted. But he walked back to his place at the end of the van for the rest of the ride.

After an indeterminant amount of time, the van slowed and pulled to a stop. Maroney and the driver got out and came around to open the door in the back. He tossed Broken Nose the keys to the cuffs and moved back to wait for each of them to step out of the vehicle as they were uncuffed from the bar.

When Nyah stepped out, she looked around. They were parked inside another, much cleaner warehouse that had a row of cages approximately 6X6 set up in the middle of the open space. A table nearby was set up with computers and cameras, with an older, balding man sitting at it typing on one of the keyboards. Two more armed men were approaching their group.

“You’re late,” the one in front, a tall man with a long greasy ponytail and goatee said.

“We had a late delivery,” Maroney answered.

Goatee surveyed the women and frowned, “there’s only supposed to be five.”

Maroney grabbed her and drug her forward. “The director had us pick up this one tonight. She’s causing a lot of trouble, but she’s young and pretty, so might as well make some money with her instead of putting a bullet in her head.”

Goatee moved to stand in front of her and grabbed her by the chin and turned her head from side to side. “She’s a little roughed up, but she will do.” He tightened his grip on her chin, forcing her head up to look at him, “but if you cause trouble her, you will get a bullet in the head. Understand?”

She managed a bit of a nod and he shoved her away in dismissal. “Put them in holding. We go live at noon.”


	17. Chapter 17

Matt was awakened the next morning by his cell phone ringing. He was still laying on his couch where he had passed out. He sat up, groaning, and put his head in his hands. He really needed a better suit, he mused, not for the first time. On the kitchen counter, his cell phone started ringing again. He pushed himself to his feet and walked slowly over to it.

“What’s up?” he answered.

“We’re on our way up,” came Foggy’s voice. He sounded breathless. “Open the door.”

There was a knock at his door, so he hung up and crossed his apartment to open it. A Very distraught Foggy pushed past him to enter, but Karen paused and took in his makeshift bandages.

“What happened to you?” she asked with concern.

“Detective Maroney and a couple of friends,” he replied, standing aside to let her enter before shutting the door behind her.

“So, you know already?” Karen asked, confused.

“Know what?” he was lost.

“About Nyah,” Foggy answered as they joined him in the living room.

“About this,” Karen said at the same time, waving what sounding like a piece of paper in the air.

“Ok,” Matt said slowly, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “Start from the beginning,” he told them as he went to his kitchen and made himself a glass of water.

Karen took a deep breath and held up the piece of paper again. “When I got to the office this morning, this was waiting. It had been dropped off last night.” There was the sound of the paper being unfolded and smoothed out on his table.

“It’s from Nyah. She went to the women’s center last night planning on being caught by the people that have been abducting all the women!” Her voice rose, close to being hysterical.

“What?” Matt said numbly, putting his glass down. He missed the edge of the counter and the glass fell to the floor, shattering and spraying glass and water over the kitchen floor. All three of them jumped at the sound but ignored the mess on the floor.

Karen continued, “she planned to get kidnapped!”

“That’s insane,” Matt said in disbelief. Then he held up his hand to forestall her answer and listened closely to the apartment above his. The familiar heartbeat wasn’t present. The he remembered and pounded his fist on the counter. That was what bothered him last night before he passed out. Her apartment was quiet. He should have been able to hear her, but he had been so out of it, that it didn’t register. Rage built up inside him. Of all the stupid….

“She had a plan, if that makes you feel any better,” Foggy put in and Matt jerked his attention to him.

“What plan?” he ground out.

“According to this letter, she bought GPS trackers so she could be found by the police today. She left a key to her apartment and instructions on how to access the program on her computer.” Karen held up the key.

Matt was already moving towards the door. When he got there, he turned back to his friends that were still standing in his living room. “Are you coming?”

The three of them hurried up the stairs. Karen had Nyah’s computer up and running the GPS program in just a few minutes. The tracker marked ‘car’ was stationary in front of the police station. The other tracker was on the far side of Hell’s Kitchen in the area that had borne the brunt of Fisk’s insane plan and was still not completely recovered.

“Well, we know where she is. Now what?” Karen asked.

“We can’t call the police, because we don’t know how many are involved,” Matt pointed out.

“If we can’t call the police, what are we supposed to do? Go in ourselves with guns blazing?” Foggy asked pacing the room behind Matt and Karen.

“What about your contact that the precinct?” Karen turned and looked up at Matt.

He shook his head, “I don’t know.” He leaned back against the wall.

“We have to do something. We just can’t leave her there. She’s counting on us to come find her.”

“She should have thought about that before she ran off without filling us in beforehand!” Matt responded heatedly.

“Um, if she had, we wouldn’t have let her do this,” Karen reasoned.

Matt struck the wall. “Damn right! And for good reason!”

Foggy put himself between them, “hold on a minute. We are thinking about this like Nyah is a normal person putting herself in danger. But she isn’t. She can’t be killed.”

“Yes, she can,” Karen corrected, “she just comes back.”

“Okay, yes. But she does come back. Every time. She’s doing this to save people. Matt, that’s what you do all the time, and look at yourself right now!” He stopped and pointed at his best friend. “You are bleeding all over the wall just standing there!”

“She’s putting you guys in danger!” Matt insisted.

“So do you!” Foggy countered. “Every time you go out, you take the chance of getting discovered and you put us in danger!”

“This is different!”

“No, it isn’t!” Foggy exploded. “Are you so pissed at her because she took away your chance to go save the day? To be the hero? To go beat the shit out of the bad guys?”

“No!” Matt yelled back at him.

“Then what?” Foggy said in a softer voice. “Why are you so pissed?”

Matt didn’t have an answer for him. Instead he sighed and said, “this isn’t solving anything.”

“No,” Karen put in, “it isn’t. While you guys were beating your chests and acting like idiots, I’ve been checking out the area around this building and I think I have an idea.”

Both of them turned to her. “What?” asked Foggy.

“All of these buildings are in bad shape, right?” she gestured to the map on the computer screen.

“Yes, from the explosions,” Matt agreed.

She pointed out the building next to the one with the GPS target on it, “this building is the only one that is really close. The other buildings have a pretty good clearance around them.”

At Foggy’s nod, she continued, “What if we start a fire in this building? That would bring the fire department and the police to the area without going directly to the police. They would check out this building next to it and discover Nyah and whoever else is being held in it as well as the people holding them.” She looked at them expectantly.

“Or they might get spooked and try to move them,” Foggy pointed out.

“Then we take pictures and follow them,” she suggested. “Either way, we have the opportunity to nail them.”

Matt and Foggy were silent, thinking about her idea.

“It might work,” Matt finally said into the silence. “We are going to need supplies. And I need to make some phone calls.”

****

By 10:30, they had their plan worked out and all the supplies they needed to make it happen. They took the bus as close as possible then walked the last few blocks. When they got close enough to see the warehouse, Matt had Foggy and Karen wait for him while he went ahead to check it out. He skirted around the side of the second building, alert to the hum of electronics that would announce surveillance cameras and came up the alley between the buildings.

Ignoring his injuries, he climbed up a decrepit ladder that was still barely attached to the side of the warehouse, until he reached the roof. On the roof, he had to tread carefully to avoid soft spots and places that had already caved in. At one of the holes he stopped to survey the interior of the building and heard nothing from below. He could make out a separate area in the back, though, and slipped through one of the holes onto a dropped ceiling.

Below him was a larger room and three smaller rooms with no one in them. In fact, the whole building was deserted.

Pulling out his cell phone, he called Foggy. “It’s deserted,” he said when Foggy answered. “Nobody’s in there. Meet me inside.”

When they met him, all three of them entered the back room. The room was stale and stank of cigarettes, beer, and body odor. Karen was holding her cell phone following the GPS signal from an app she had downloaded and led them to one of the three doors against the far back wall.

“This is where they were keeping the women,” she said in a whisper, looking at the dirty mattresses littering the floor and the foul-smelling bucket in the corner. Her phone led her to one of the mattresses. “This is where the signal is coming from.”

Matt went to the mattress and felt around the edge until he found the tear and fished out the pendant. He turned and held it up for the others to see. “She was here.”

“But she’s not here anymore,” Foggy stated the obvious. “What now?”

“Tonight’s the new moon,” Karen said. “I guess we wait.”

“And we have a tracker in the car to follow,” Matt said darkly.

**** 

Nyah and the other women had been locked in the cages in the middle of the warehouse and then Maroney and the other two left, leaving just the three new men alone with the women. The cages had nothing at all in them, so the women were forced to stand or sit on the concrete floor as they waited. Their guards would not let them sit close to each other and they were not allowed to talk, so Nyah lay down on the hard floor and fitfully dozed throughout the morning.

Sometime late in the morning, Goatee approached the first cage in the line, containing Juanita, unlocked it and motioned her out. He escorted her over to a table with a mirror, makeup and a hairbrush and told her to make herself presentable. When she only put on minimum makeup, he commanded her to put on more ‘like she was going on a date’. Once he deemed her suitably made-up, he handed her a dress and told her to change into it.

Juanita looked around, “Where?”

Goatee laughed, “where do you think? Right here. Now!” he yelled and pointed the gun at her when she didn’t immediately comply.

Cringing, Juanita stripped out of her jeans and tee shirt and put the short, clingy dress on. Both guards stared, but the computer guy never looked up. When Juanita was finished, Goatee walked her over to stand in front of a camera to await further instructions. The other guy unlocked the next cage in the line and repeated the process.

The computer guy finally turned his attention to Juanita. “Okay, Sweetheart, we are going live in 60 seconds. Smile into the camera when I tell you and don’t stop smiling until I tell you. Got it?”

When she nodded hesitantly, he turned and clicked something on the computer.

“Start smiling…now,” he commanded.

Juanita plastered a fake smile on her face and stood still for a few moments. The computer guy told her to turn in a circle a couple of times, then had her stand still for a bit longer. Finally, he told her she was done, and goatee led her back to her cage, made her change back into her clothes, then locked her back up.

On it went until it was Nyah’s turn. She didn’t protest or blush when she was forced to strip in front of everyone. The dress she was given was too big on her, but none of the men seemed to care. When she was marched over to stand in front of the camera, she could see the computer monitor. There was a list of usernames and while she was being filmed, dollar amounts began to appear next to the names. They were being sold to the highest bidder apparently.

She was honestly starting to worry. By now, someone should have found the warehouse where they were being held earlier, but as the day wore on, the odds of help arriving was diminishing. She was kicking herself for getting rid of the tracker so fast at the first warehouse. She was the only hope these women had and she had blown it by acting too quickly.

Now the possibility of being held captive through the coming night was becoming more real. She was not looking forward to it. In fact, she was terrified of it. There had only been three times that she had been physically unable to respond to her curse; that undeniable urge to find someone in need of saving. All three times she had been a prisoner of some sort, locked up in a cell; even chained to a wall once. The urge was thwarted by her inability to leave, but as the night wore on, she had been gripped by an overwhelming pain. It started in her head; a pounding headache followed by blinding stabs of pain, nosebleeds, and a deafening ringing in her ears. Then it spread downward, suffocating pressure in her chest, crippling cramps, and body wide muscle spasms powerful enough to break bones. By the time the sun peaked over the horizon, she had been screaming for hours, not even able to pass out to obtain relief. When her body dissolved, she felt every molecule separate until she was completely gone. She had woken up still screaming in pain when she resurrected three nights later.

After the first time it happened, she tried to ensure she was either killed before being taken captive or she drove her captors to execute her before the night of the new moon. Unfortunately, this time there were other lives at stake. There was no way she could be sure these men would not harm any of the other women if she incensed them. They didn’t seem like the types to be overly fair when doling out punishment. And now that she had been sold to the highest bidder, killing her would cost them their profit, so they were less likely to just shoot her. All she could do was wait and hope that her friends would come through for her and the others.


	18. Chapter 18

The day drug endlessly on for Matt, Foggy, and Karen, as Karen stayed glued to the GPS app, watching for movement from Maroney’s car. They had verified that it was indeed the detective’s car and that is was parked outside of the police station. Every time it moved, she would call the guys and they would track it to the new location. Fortunately, the detective went out on very few calls that day and made one trip to the courthouse. By the end of the day, the friends’ nerves were frayed, and they were straining to refrain from taking their frustrations out on each other.

Just after 6:00 that afternoon, Maroney left the station and Karen called the guys to let them know he was on the move again. When his car stopped in front of the women’s shelter, she called it in to them. Matt and Foggy arrived a few minutes later and watched the car from the alley just up the street. He was in the center for less than thirty minutes before he came back out and left.

His next destination was the abandoned warehouse they had searched that morning. After a short trip on the subway and walking a few blocks, they stood across from the building again. Maroney’s car was still there, along with an older sedan that had seen better days.

Matt started towards the building and Foggy grabbed his arm and pulled him back into hiding. “Where are you going?” he whispered.

“Why are you whispering? There’s no one around to here you.” Matt informed him.

“Well, I don’t have super hearing like you. How was I to know that?” Foggy asked in a normal voice.

Matt didn’t answer, instead he said, “I’m going to get closer and see I can hear what they are doing.”

“Oh, okay, I guess. But no vigilante stuff!” he told Matt.

“Do I look like I’m dressed for it?”

Foggy looked at his friend dubiously, “No, but I know you. You want to punch someone right now.”

Matt grinned at him, “I always want to punch someone.”

As he walked away, Foggy called after him, “Always?”

“Always,” was the response as Matt disappeared around the corner of the second building to come up on the backside of the warehouse. Once again, he climbed the rusted ladder to access the roof and dropped down to the lower rooms.

He could make out two men in the main room below him and their muffled voices transmitted through the thin material of the ceiling.

“Why do I always have to do it?” the second man was whining.

“Because that’s what we pay you to do,” snapped Maroney.

“Can’t you make some calls instead?”

“No, that would look suspicious,” Maroney replied. “We don’t want to draw any extra attention to ourselves for a while. Taking care of that nosey bitch is going to be bad enough. The boss is on my case big time.”

That got Matt’s attention. How did they take care of her? Was she even alive still?

“Now,” he continued, “get this place cleared out by morning. After the building inspector is done, we will have to wait a few days, but then we can start back up. Until then, everyone needs to just lay low.”

“Fine,” the other man said, “I’ll call Joe and we will get it done tonight.”

“You better, or you will be the one to answer to the boss,” came the threat from Maroney. “Speaking of, I need to get going. I have a stop to make before I meet with him later.”

Matt dropped low against the ceiling as the door opened and Maroney walked out. He waited until Maroney left through the far door of the warehouse, then he dropped to the floor, carefully opened the door, and stepped into the room. The man in the room had his back to the door and was looking at the TV in the corner. Matt flipped the lone light in the room off, shrouding it in darkness and leapt at the man before he could turn around, landing a hard kick to the center of his back.

The man fell forward into the TV and both him and it fell to the floor. He rolled clear of the TV and onto his back, but Matt was already on top of him, punching him repeatedly in the face. He got in a punch that landed on Matt’s gunshot wound and when he flinched and moved to protect the vulnerable spot, the man was able to flip him off and scramble to his feet.

He kicked Matt once in his injured side as he tried to rise from the floor and knocked him into the table. When he tried to kick Matt a second time, Matt grabbed him by the foot and swept his other leg out from under him while he was unbalanced. Both men rose to their feet and faced off in the gloom.

“You don’t know who you’re fucking with,” the man growled at him.

Matt didn’t answer, instead he launched himself at the man again. He got in several hard hits, then spun the guy and smashed his face into one of the metal doors. A couple more cracks against the door and the man slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Matt staggered back to the table and sank into one of the chairs, pressing his hand against his side. When he pulled it away, there was blood on it.

The door behind him swung open violently and slammed against the wall and Foggy rushed into the room brandishing a piece of rusted pipe. When he saw Matt sitting at the table and the other man unconscious on the floor, he lowered his makeshift weapon and glared at Matt.

“I thought you weren’t dressed for this shit.”

“I needed to punch someone."

Together, they bound and gagged the man and Foggy drug him into one of the cells. Locking him in and taking the keys with them, they left him to be discovered by the building inspector in the morning.

“You need to go see Claire,” Foggy told Matt as they walked back to the subway station. “You’re bleeding again.”

“There’s no time,” Matt told him and filled him in on the conversation he overheard.

“Then let’s go back to your place and wrap you up better so you aren’t leaving a blood trail,” he suggested.

“There’s a drugstore two blocks over, we’ll get some bandages there and take care of it.” Matt didn’t want to waste time going back to his apartment.

“Great, now we are doing first aid in alley,” his friend griped, but followed him to the drug store.

****

Nyah was dozing on the hard floor again, when Goatee unlocked her cage.

“Get up,” he told her.

She stood up and looked at him. “What?”

He motioned for her to leave the cage, “You’re leaving.”

She looked at the other cages and the women watching what was going on with her. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” he laughed, putting an emphasis on the ‘we’. “You are going to a ride.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the warehouse’s rollup door.

The door was rising from the floor and a black SUV pulled into the warehouse. When it pulled to a stop, a portly man got out and walked over to where they were waiting.

“This her?” he asked.

“Yeah. Watch her, she’s supposed to be a troublemaker,” Goatee said as he handed the man a slip of paper.

Tubby glanced at the paper, then stuffed it in his shirt pocket. “Oh, I don’t think she will be any trouble for me, will you Sweetie?” he asked in a gentle voice, then held up a taser he was carrying. He stepped forward with surprising speed and touched it to her stomach and activated it.

The shock jolted through her body and her muscles locked up. When he stepped back, she collapsed to the ground, cracking a tooth on the concrete and busting her lip open again.

Over the ringing in her ears she heard Goatee tell Tubby, “Christ, you could have warned me! You almost got me too, you Asshole!”

Tubby laughed and nudged her with his foot. “Get up.”

Once she was back on her feet, he grinned at her. “We have an understanding now?”

She nodded and wiped the blood off her face. Pleased with himself, Tubby cuffed her and led her to the SUV and put her in the passenger seat.

On his way around to the driver’s side, Goatee told him, “the rest aren’t going until after midnight. Be back here by then.”

“Got it,” he said as he got into the SUV.

He started the vehicle then looked over at Nyah, “you are going to sit there and be quiet, right?”

When she nodded, he put the vehicle in gear and backed out of the warehouse.

****

When Karen called with the latest location for Maroney, it was on the outskirts of the city and the subway didn’t extend that far out, so they called an Uber to get them there. Foggy had bandaged Matt’s side up as well as he could, and the bleeding had stopped for the time being. Foggy was sure his friend would do something else to change that as the night wore on, though.

They had their ride drop them off three blocks away and walked the rest of the way. This warehouse was in better shape than the other one, but had other warehouses crowded up against it and across the street from it. It was late afternoon and the shadows were growing between the buildings, giving them plenty of cover as they approached.

As they approached, a rollup door opened on the front of the building and Maroney’s car pulled out onto the street and drove away.

“Crap!” Foggy said. “What do we do now?”

“We need to find out who he is meeting with,” Matt answered.

“But Nyah might be in there and we can’t be in two places at the same time.”

Matt shook his head, “yes, we can. There are two of us.”

“Oh, no!” Foggy protested holding up his hands.

“We don’t have time to argue,” Matt told him. “You follow Maroney and see who he meets with. I will stay here and figure out how to free Nyah if she’s even in there.”

“I don’t like this, Matt.”

“You need to go if you’re going to catch up with him!” Matt shoved his friend away from the building. “Go!”

“Okay, but text me as soon as you know anything! Oh, and Matt?”

Matt was already climbing a ladder to the roof of the building they were standing by. He looked down at Foggy, “what now?”

“Just be careful,” he said. “Don’t get killed. You’re not invincible, you know.”

Matt gave his friend a sad smile. “I know,” he said, then continued climbing.

Once on the roof of the building, Matt made his way to the warehouse Maroney drove out of. Stopping on the adjacent roof, he focused on the interior of it. He could sense the hum of the electronics inside, but it was concentrated in one area towards the back of the building. He didn’t detect any peripheral electronics, just the main electrical wiring for the lights, so he was sure there were no cameras or motion detectors set up for security. Inside the building, he counted nine people, but wasn’t close enough to make out any details.

With that knowledge, he climbed down from the building he was on and, sticking to the shadows, made his way over to the warehouse. He found a door that led into a storage room on the backside of the building, and, making short work of the lock, slipped inside. The room was crowded with boxes and furniture stacked up to the ceiling, giving him plenty of places to hide if necessary.

Going to the wall on the interior side of the room, he scanned the room again. There appeared to be two cars and one van parked just inside the rollup door on the far side of the space. By the way they walked and held themselves, he identified two men patrolling and one by the electronics, probably computers. There were five others in the middle of the space, all either laying down or sitting on the floor. He heard one sniffle and guessed they were kidnapped women. He listened hard for Nyah’s steady heartbeat but couldn’t find it in the room. If she was in there, he supposed she was probably distressed enough to change the rhythm of her heart. Plus, there was a weird echo in the room that slightly distorted all the sounds. He wouldn’t know for sure until he got in there.

The good news was that there were only three of them. The bad news was he had no way to easily sneak in and there weren’t many places to hide once he was inside. He needed a plan. Against one wall of the room, there was a circuit breaker panel. An idea began to form.

He went outside and gauged that there was less than an hour of daylight left, but he didn’t know if or when the women would be moved, so he would have to improvise and use what shadows there were now. He scooped up a handful of dirt and went back into the storage room, locking the door behind him.

Opening the panel, he tossed in the handful of dirt, flipped the main breaker off, quickly shut the panel, and found a hiding place near the door. Inside the warehouse, he could hear one of the men cursing and ordering one of the others to go check out the power. A door near him on the back wall opened and closed.

The handle of the storage room door rattled as someone tried to turn it, then there was a jingle of keys, soft cursing, and then the click as he found the right key to unlock the door. It swung open slowly, and the man surveyed the room from outside before entering. Not seeing any threat, he entered the room slowly, his gun held out in front of him. Matt allowed him to make it to the panel.

When he opened the panel and saw all the dirt and the tripped breaker, he muttered, “old ass wiring panel,” under his breath and reset the breaker.

That is when Matt bashed him over the head with a metal table leg he had picked up. The man went down in a heap on the floor and didn’t move. Matt took his gun, phone, shirt, and hat, tied him up, and left the room. He tossed the gun and phone into a pile of trash behind the building, put the shirt and hat on, then made his way to the door the man exited.

Pausing at the door, he pinpointed the location of the remaining two men. The computer guy was by one of the cars, digging around in the trunk, and the other guy was standing next to him. The car was between them and the door.

He opened the door and stepped into the room and moved to put the table with the computers between them, keeping his head down. He held the metal table leg against his leg on the side of his body away from them.

“Any problems?” called one of the men at the car, his voice echoing off the wall behind Matt.

Imitating the other man’s voice as much as possible, Matt called back, “Old ass wiring panel.” His voice echoed and was distorted slightly by it and the other man didn’t seem to notice the difference. He didn’t move from where he stood by the car with the other guy.

“Ok, get over here and help with this,” the guy called back to him.

Matt carefully made his way over to the car, keeping as many things between him and their line of site as possible. As he crossed in front of where the women were, he realized they were in chain link cages that were free-standing in the middle of the space. Checking them as he passed by, he knew for certain Nyah wasn’t one of them and wondered what had happened to her.

Passing by the van, he had nothing more between him and the others, so he had to move quick. Both men had their heads down quietly discussing something. The echo in the room made it impossible for him to make out what they were saying. All he could do was hope his disguise was working and they weren’t on to him. Keeping his head down he left the cover of the van and walked quickly to them.

As he neared them, the one closest to him looked up and said, “Took you long enough,” before it registered that Matt was not his guy. Matt dashed the last few feet and swung the leg at him.

He spun away from the car and Matt’s blow deflected off his shoulder. The other man looked up with surprise and Matt slammed the car’s trunk lid down on his hands that were grasping the edge of the trunk. He screamed and doubled over in pain. The other, younger man was reaching for his gun, but Matt was on him, swinging the leg. It caught the man in the elbow, and he dropped the gun. Matt continued to swing at him and kicked the gun towards the van hoping it would go under it.

Without his gun, the man started fighting back barehanded, but Matt was able to easily deflect his sloppy blows with the table leg. Another hard hit on his arm, and the crack of bones could easily be heard. The man quit putting up a fight at that point.

“Man, you don’t know what you are doing. Who you are messing with,” he told Matt.

“Who am I messing with?” Matt snarled at him.

The guy shook his head and didn’t answer. He was trying to distract Matt because the other man had recovered and was pulling something out of the trunk and turning towards him. Matt registered the rifle in the man’s hands and dove out of the way as he fired three shots. The bullets hit the other man and he fell to the concrete bleeding. Matt swept the shooter’s legs out from under him and kicked him in the face as he fell. In just a few seconds, it was over, and Matt was surprisingly unhurt.

He locked the shooter in the trunk of the car, picked up the two weapons and locked them in the trunk of the other car, and checked on the guy that was shot. He was still alive, but bleeding heavily and wouldn’t make it very long.

Matt knelt beside him and asked him, “who’s responsible for this?”

The man looked at him and laughed, “you are so fucked!”

“Who!” Matt shook him.

Instead of answering, the man coughed up blood and passed out. Matt let go of him and stood up.

In the cages, the women were all standing watching silently. He walked over to them.

“Where’s Nyah?” he asked.

The woman on the end answered, “they took her a little while ago.”

“Where?”

She shook her head, “I don’t know. They sold us over the internet to the highest bidder. She was the first to be delivered. The rest of us are supposed to go around midnight.”

Matt walked around to the locked doors. “Do you know where the keys are?”

Another woman spoke up, “over there on the table by the computer.”

A third woman asked him, “aren’t you going to call the police?”

“They are in on it, Becky,” the first woman answered for him.

“Not all of them,” Becky shot back at her.

Matt answered this time, “We don’t know which ones to trust, so no, I am not calling them.”

He found the keys and started unlocking the cages. “Who can drive?” he asked them.

“I can,” said the first woman.

“Find the keys to that van and get them out of here. Don’t go back to Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Got it,” she responded. “What about you?”

“I’ve got other things to do.” He pulled out an envelope of money that was in the trunk of the first car and handed it to her. “Take this and get the hell out of here.”

After the women fled in the van, Becky insisted on hugging him first, he went over to the computer. Feeling around, he located the cables and disconnected it. Then he pulled out his phone and called Karen.


	19. Chapter 19

Nyah and Tubby rode together in silence for the next two hours. The city disappeared behind them and they drove into a forested area. Nyah had not realized there were wild areas this close to the city. They turned off the interstate onto a state road and then onto a county road. Their next turn was onto a dirt road that wound its way deep into the wooded area.

She was nervously watching the sun as it sunk closer and closer to the horizon, but lost track of it once they entered the forest. She could feel it, though. She didn’t have long left; thirty minutes tops. If she started screaming in the SUV, she had a feeling Tubby would just taser her long enough to deliver her, so she waited.

Soon, they turned off the gravel road onto a narrow dirt track. It was dark enough that Tubby had to turn on his headlights to see the rutted-out path. A few minutes later, a cabin came into view. Tubby stopped and tapped the horn for attention, and a tall, skinny man came out to greet them. He went to the driver’s window, which Tubby rolled down.

“Took you long enough,” he said, eyeing Nyah.

“Traffic on the turnpike was a bitch,” Tubby answered.

“She give you any trouble?”

“Naw, I tasered her before we even got in the car,” Tubby smirked.

“Huh, smart. Let her know whose boss right off the bat,” he nodded with approval and handed over a fat envelope. “Here you go.”

Tubby thumbed through the money inside, then handed him the key to her cuffs to him. “She’s all yours. Have fun!” He laughed.

“Oh, we will, that’s for sure!” He came over to her side and pulled her out of the SUV.

Looking her over from head to toe, he said, “she’s even better in person. Come on.” And he pulled her towards the cabin.

Instead of going inside, though, he led her around to the back of it where there was a tornado shelter buried in the ground with just the door exposed. He unlocked the padlock on the door and shoved her down the stairs into the small, dark space below.

“See you in the morning,” he grinned at her from the doorway, then slammed it shut, sealing her in the darkness. She listened as he locked the padlock and walked away. Soon she could barely hear his truck start and drive away.

So, he left her here alone for the night. Lovely, she thought. Just lovely. This was what she got for getting involved in other people’s problems.

She sat down on the floor to wait for the inevitable.

****

Matt and Foggy got back to the office just after dark. Karen was thrilled that he had saved the five women, but seriously worried about Nyah. Not even both the guys assuring her that Nyah’s intent was for them to save the women.

“No, her intent was for us to catch who is doing this and put them out of business,” she stubbornly told them.

“Well,” Foggy told them, “that’s where I come in. You will never in a million years guess who Maroney met with and handed an envelope full of money to.” He waited expectantly.

Karen rolled her eyes. “Just tell us, Foggy!”

“None other than the New York District Attorney, Silas Montgomery!” he announced with a flourish.

Karen and Matt were quiet for a moment, then Karen said, “you have got to be shitting us!”

“Nope!” Foggy told her. “The head honcho for human trafficking out of Hell’s Kitchen is the one person we would need on our side to prosecute this crime.”

“Shit,” Karen said again.

****

Nyah could feel the sun setting in her bones. She had frantically searched the cellar looking for anyway out or anything she could use to pry the door open, but to no avail. All she encountered was concrete walls and spider webs. She had been in similar situations over the years and knew what to expect, but still wasn’t prepared for it.

When the curse was new, she had tried to resist the urge to seek out someone in need of saving. The urge had become overwhelming and she had given in over and over despite her determination not to. Then she had the brilliant idea to restrain herself. That is when she discovered the consequences of not obeying the curse. If she did not follow the urge of the curse, her body slowly tore itself apart throughout the night, only ending when it dissolved completely at sunrise. It was not a way to die that she would recommend. Even being burnt at the stake was more merciful.

Only twice in her long existence had she been force to endure such suffering. Once she had been imprisoned for witchcraft and had been left to rot in a cell in the catacombs under the city. Another time, she had been locked up waiting to be shipped off to a concentration camp during the second world war. The first time, she had screamed in vain all night long before dawn came, and her misery ended. The second time, a soldier had shot her sometime around midnight just to shut her up. She didn’t think she would be that lucky this time.

Sure enough, the urge to go somewhere gripped her, but she had nowhere to go. She was reduced to pacing within the small space, like a restless tiger in a cage. Eleven steps were all it took to make a complete circle. She played out fond memories in her imagination. Most of them times she had spent with Lei, but there were a few new ones with her friends in Hell's Kitchen.

Before long, the headache and ringing in her ears started and her extremities started to tremble. She meditated for as long as she was able, then recited poetry, but as the night wore on, the pounding in her head eventually made it impossible to focus on anything. The ringing in her ears drowned out the sound of her own breathing.

The first muscle spasms put an end to her pacing. After that, all she could do was curl up in a ball on the floor, shaking between them and cursing the old woman that had hexed her, her father for denying her a future with the man she loved, and Lei for allowing her to fall in love with him. She cursed the universe and every god she had grown up worshipping, then branched out to other deities. Most of all, she cursed herself for loving so selfishly. During one particularly strong spasm, she clenched her teeth so tightly, one of them cracked. The taste of copper filled her mouth and she spat out the fragment on the concrete floor. More were sure to follow.

She almost made it to midnight before the first scream was torn from her throat. After that her world shrunk to just the pain. Blood poured from her nose and dripped from her eyes like tears. Her muscles contracted so strongly that bones snapped, tendons popped, and still there was no relief. She screamed until her throat was raw, then screamed some more. She clawed at the floor, ripping off fingernails and tearing the skin on her hands. She pulled fistfuls of hair out of her head and scratched ragged grooves on her face. And still she screamed and screamed, no sound coming from her open mouth.

It would have been a blessed relief when she first felt the molecules of her body start to break apart near dawn, but she was completely beyond coherent thought or reason. When the first arc of the red orb broke the horizon, Nyah’s body dissolved into its basic elements, then even those dissolved, leaving no trace of her in the cellar. Not a single drop of blood, no scattered tooth fragments, no hair or broken fingernails. Nothing. She was gone and would remain gone for the next three days. Until the moon returned to the night sky.

****

The next three days were excruciating for Matt. Foggy and Karen took turns digging through the computer, but it quickly became apparent that a true expert was required to gain access to most of the content it contained and the three of them argued heatedly over who that expert should be. They finally tabled the discussion after Matt punched through one of the walls in his apartment. The discussion about their next step didn’t go much better, but they did agree to wait until Nyah came back to discover what she had learned before making a decision.

Matt had called 911 and reported suspicious activity at the warehouses but hadn’t waiting on the police to arrive. The news and papers remained suspiciously quiet about it, though, so the three friends figured it had been successfully covered up. This didn’t require much of a stretch since they had discovered the DA was running the trafficking ring.

That left Matt with a lot of time on his hands; time that he used at night to follow Maroney and his partner around, waiting on them to make a mistake. But the detectives were careful, even more so since both the warehouses had been compromised. During the day, he tried to immerse himself in the few cases he and Foggy were working. Unfortunately, two of the cases were missing persons associated with the trafficking ring and they were at a standstill on them until Nyah’s return.

His mood became foul to the extent that both Foggy and Karen banished him from the office on the last day of their wait. As he made his way home, he wasn’t paying his normal attention to where he was going, and his dark thoughts were interrupted when he was rudely jostled by another pedestrian.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” a vaguely familiar feminine voice said as her hands flew to his arms to steady him. Then, “Oh, sweet Jesus!”

When she stepped back away from him like he had a contagion, Matt recognized her voice.

“Juanita?”

“It IS you,” she breathed. “But I don’t understand. You’re blind?”

Shit, Matt thought to himself. Out loud he said, “Why are you still here? Are you trying to piss the police off?”

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the mouth of a nearby alley.

“All my stuff is here,” she told him. “I wasn’t going to just leave it all behind. Plus, I got this.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a gun. The smell of the gun oil and powder irritated Matt’s sensitive nose.

“Put that away before someone sees it!” he hissed at her.

“Okay,” Juanita sniffed as she stuffed the weapon back into her purse.

They were only a couple of blocks from the office, giving Matt an idea. “Come with me. We need to get you off the street.”

Juanita, surprisingly, followed him quietly back to his office, where he introduced her to Karen and Foggy. Juanita told them how Mrs. Williams had tricked her and everything she had seen and heard while in captivity. They also got her contact information and the names of the other girls that Matt had rescued. Juanita promised to testify if it came to a trial and was sure most of the others would do so, except Becky.

Together, they came up with a plan to get Juanita her stuff and get her safely out of the city. By the time they got her belongings and she was on her way to New Jersey, it was late afternoon. It was time to go, wait for Nyah.


	20. Chapter 20

Foggy and Karen were sitting on Matt’s couch in quiet conversation while he sat in a chair in his bedroom. He had put the urn on his bed, propped up between the two pillows. While he wasn’t sure how it would work, he knew from experience and by her own story that she would resurrect somewhere near the ashes. He hoped that it would be on the bed and not underneath it. That might be a bit disconcerting for her.

He checked his watch, 7:49. Sunset was supposed to be 7:55 today. Only six more minutes to wait. By now he had gotten over his anger with her. She had taken a big risk, but she had also saved those women. He can’t say he wouldn’t have done the same if it had been him. After all, he took risks all the time. Risks that paid off sometime and at other times left him with new scars.

He felt the change in the air as an uncomfortable prickle on his skin that caused his hairs to stand on end. Then she was just there. At first, she wasn’t breathing, and her heart wasn’t beating, she was the same temperature as the air around them. Then her heart thudded, and she gasped. She sat straight up in the bed and gave a strangled scream. Matt reached over to grab her, but she fought him frantically, screaming again. Matt gave up and sat back for to wait for her to come out of it.

Karen and Foggy rushed in and stood by Mat as Nyah’s body arched in an alarming bow, and another agonized scream was torn from her. Then she collapsed limply on the bed and just lay there panting for a moment. Matt waiting while her racing heart and breathing slowed and awareness returned. Karen left to go to the bathroom and returned with a damp washcloth. She sat on the edge of the bed and gently wiped the other woman’s face with the cool cloth. A tear gathered in the corner of Nyah’s eye and trickled down the side of her face.

“Was it bad?” Karen asked her softly.

She swallowed and nodded slightly, then sat up and leaned her head against Karen’s shoulder. The blonde looked at Foggy and motioned towards the bedroom door.

He tapped Matt on the arm, “Let’s give them a bit.”

Matt reluctantly rose and followed Foggy out of the room despite the fact that he wanted to just gather her up in his arms and hold her. To tell her it would be okay. That he was here for her. Instead he left Karen to do comfort her.

A long while later, Karen joined them. “She’ll be out in a moment. Try not to startle her, she’s still a little shaky and not in a really good place right now. Oh, I gave her one of your T-shirts and a pair of boxers so she could get out of those clothes.”

“Did she say what happened?” Foggy asked, scooting over on the couch to make room for her.

Karen shook her head, “No, but whatever happened, it was bad. Really bad.”

Foggy was going to say something else, but the bedroom door opened and Nyah stepped out of the room. She looked at the three friends and gave them a hesitant little smile.

“Hi.”

Matt's mouth went dry and his tongue seemed to quit working. She was wearing one of his Columbia T-shirts and a black pair of his boxers. Her hair was a tousled mess that hung loose around her shoulders and down her back. She was modestly covered, but she looked incredibly sexy wearing his clothes.

“Welcome back,” Foggy said. “Do you need something? Water? Beer? Something stronger?”

She smiled a little more at him, “I don’t think Matt has anything stronger. I’ll have a water, anyway. Thanks.”

Matt got up and gave her the chair he was sitting in. “How are you doing?”

“I’ll be okay in a little while,” she answered.

Foggy brought her a glass of water and she took several drinks from it. Her hand was still shaking, and she had difficulty setting it down. Matt took it from her before she dropped it.

“Do you want to talk about what happened now, or do you need to rest?” Karen asked her, concerned.

“No, I’m okay. Honestly. It’s just taking my nerves a little more time to settle down that normal.”

“Why don't we tell you what happened with us first?” Karen suggested.

Nyah smiled, gratitude shining in her eyes. “Yes, please.”

Karen and Foggy took turns telling their story while she sipped her water and listened. Matt could tell she was not okay no matter how much she assured them it was so. Her hand still trembled slightly when she picked up the glass and he could sense little twitches every so often in different muscles. Her temperature had overshot normal body temperature and was hovering just over 100 degrees by his estimate, her blood pressure was high, and her heart rate was elevated. Foggy and Karen weren't picking any of it up because it was all subtle, but something was definitely wrong.

He was so focused on her and the little signs of distress she was giving off that it took him a moment to register that no one was speaking, and they were all looking at him as if he were the one with issues.

“What? I'm sorry, I missed that,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I was thinking.”

“We just asked if you had anything to add,” Foggy said.

He had no idea; he hadn't been paying any attention to anything they were saying. He just shook his head and let the conversation roll on without him.

****

Nyah couldn't wait for this to be over. She just needed to lie down and sleep for the next week. Maybe the next two weeks. Her body wasn't the problem. It had settled down while she was in the bathroom splashing water on her face to keep herself from hyperventilating. No, it was all in her mind. She couldn't make the memory of that night fade. Every time she thought she had a handle on it, another image would flash through her thoughts: the sound of her teeth cracking, the feeling of her shredded fingers, the pain of her hamstring tearing. She couldn't block them out.

Not even concentrating on Karen and Foggy's story helped. She was smart enough to know she was experiencing the aftereffects of her trauma. It would take a while, but it would subside, she just needed a bit of time. She just needed to get through this and then go rest.

Not that she wasn't grateful. They had rescued the other women before they could be handed over to their buyers, although there was something off about how they pulled it off. If she had been able to focus better, maybe she could pinpoint what was wrong with their story, but it would have to wait until she was better equipped mentally.

Then it was her turn. She filled them in on events in both the warehouses and the van ride out into the wilderness. When they asked, she told them she could remember how to get there. When she got to the part about being locked up and not able to respond to the call of her curse, she glossed over it, saying it was unpleasant and just left it at that. Matt looked at her skeptically but didn't challenge her on it. Good, she wasn't prepared for prolonged arguments.

She did tell them that it took a lot out of her.

“Do you think we can continue this tomorrow?” she asked. “I really just need to rest and recover.”

Karen jumped up looking distraught, “oh, God! We're sorry! We didn't think. Of course, you can go.”

She rose to her feet doing her best to stay steady and not look as off balanced as she felt. “Thanks. I mean it,” she said looking at all three of them. She was going to walk to the door, but Matt stopped her.

“I don't think it’s a good thing for you to stay in your apartment tonight,” he told her.

She just looked at him, uncomprehending.

“Won't Maroney know where to come looking for you? Surely, your disappearance hasn't gone unnoticed?”

“Wouldn't he have already come by if that was the case?” she asked.

“Do you want to take that chance?”

“I guess I could get a hotel room,” she started. The thought did not appeal to her, though. She just wanted to lie down as soon as possible.

“Stay here,” he told her. “Go take my bed.”

She frowned, “but where will you sleep?”

He pointed to the couch. “Don't argue, just go.” He turned her and gave her a light push towards his bedroom.

She honestly didn't have it in her to argue, so she did as he commanded, barely making it to the bed before her legs gave out. She sprawled across it face down and diagonally and passed out.

****  
When she became aware again, she was in the garden on the palace grounds. The night was peaceful and cool; a gentle breeze blew through the boughs of the trees around her and crickets merrily chirped their courtship songs. Lei was standing on the other side of the small glade with his back to her, his hands clasped together behind it.

“I asked you to let me go,” his voice floated to her in the fragrant air.

“You asked me for too much.” Her voice trembled with emotion. “I have been through too much for you to just give you up.”

“You!” His voice was like the crack of a whip and she flinched as if she had been struck. “You have been through so much for me?”

She climbed to her feet before answering. “Yes! I betrayed my family and my culture to love you. I left all that behind to find you. I was afflicted with this curse because I put you above everything else. I always put you above everything else. I loved you then and I love you still.” She clenched her fists by her side and took a step towards him.

“No, you didn't do any of that for me. You fell in love with me because you wanted someone in your life that cared for you. You betrayed your family and your culture because you chose to pursue your own selfish needs over all others. You didn't care that I was a monk with sacred vows, you were determined to love me. No matter what the cost.”

Lei turned around and faced her, the faint moonlight illuminated his face. Instead of the whole beautiful man she loved, the face that turned towards her was a ruin. Bruised and battered almost beyond recognition. Where his right eye once was there was now a gaping bleeding hole. She gasped in horror, stumbling back from his accusing stare.

His swollen, split lips twisted into a bitter smile. “You're desire for more than what you had brought both of us to this end.”

“No! We loved each other. You were just as drawn to me as I was to you.” Or was it, her treacherous mind latched on to the suggestion. Was he drawn to her? Or did he finally respond after years of her practically throwing herself at him. She had been only ten when he became her teacher, how could he have been drawn to her at that age?

Her eyes filled with tears that spilled out and ran down her face as the realization hit her. He was right. This was all her fault, her selfishness.

“How many times did I deny any feelings for you?” Lei asked her as he walked towards her.

Nyah remembered the first time she told him that she loved him. She had just turned fifteen and her father had not summoned her to wish her a good fortune on her birthday. She had eaten the special meal the palace kitchens had prepared alone. There were no gifts. No well wishes for the upcoming year. After lunch, she had met Lei for her lessons, and he had brought her a gift; a little hand-carved flute. Her heart had been so full of love that she felt she would explode if she didn't tell him. But when she did, he had gently chided her, saying that he was a monk that had taken a vow of chastity. That one day she would find her true love, she just had to be patient.

She hung her head in shame, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she felt his hands close around them.

“How many times did I tell you no?” Lei's hold on her shoulders tightened and she looked up at him.

“And now I'm dead and you still will not release me. You still hold me to you.”

“No, Lei,” she whimpered. “I loved you. I will always love you.”

His clenched his fingers, digging them into her shoulders painfully. “Then let me share my death with you.”

He pulled her to him and brought his bloody lips down on hers. She struggled in his grasp, but couldn't pull away as he forced all the pain he had into her.

**** 

Matt jerked awake. At first, he was confused, nothing was where it was supposed to be, but then he realized he was on the couch and not in his bed. Nyah was sleeping in his bed. He had gone into his bedroom after Karen and Foggy left and moved her, so she was in a more comfortable position and covered her with a blanket. He had sat on the edge of the bed for a while and observed her while she slept. The twitches and tremors he had witnessed earlier were no longer present and she was sleeping peaceably. The urge to lay down beside her was strong, so he forcibly made himself get up and go back to the living room.

Feeling his watch for the time confirmed that it was after midnight and he was about to lay back onto the pillow to try to go back to sleep when he heard a faint sound from his bedroom. It sounded like a whimper and was followed by another. That must have been what woke him up, he thought as he rose from the couch.

Walking quietly into his room, he saw that Nyah was twisted up in the blanket and was thrashing about on the bed. She was whimpering and moaning, her lips moving to form words, but none coming out. While Matt stood there, indecisive, she threw back her head and wailed, her hands reaching out as if to fend someone or something off.

Matt crawled onto the bed with her and reached out to grasp one of her hands as it clawed the air.

“Nyah, wake up!”

Her thrashing doubled, and now she had a target for her efforts as he tried to pull her to him. The hand he didn't have in his grasp, struck out and caught him in the shoulder. She fought him like her life depended on it.

“Nyah, it's just a dream! Wake up!” he shouted at her while shaking her, trying to wake her up.

She actually got a knee up and planted a blow to his ribs before he was able to gather her up in his arms and hug her tightly.

“No!” she screamed; her eyes wide open but not seeing him.

“Nyah, it's Matt! Please, wake up!”

She went stiff in his arms and drew in a sharp breath. Her hands stilled their pummeling of his chest and shoulders.

“Matt?” she whispered.

“Yeah, it's me. I've got you. You're safe,” he told her as he rubbed her back with one of his hands in what he hoped was a comforting motion.

She looked around the room with confusion. “Where am I?”

“You're in my apartment, remember? You fell asleep here because we didn't think it was safe for you to go to yours,” he said gently.

She went limp in his arms. “I was having the most horrible dream.”

He smiled down at her. “I gathered that much. Want to tell me about it?”

“Lei was telling me this was all my fault. That I am the cause of all this misery,” she sniffled.

Matt snorted, “well I'm sure you do have some of the blame, but there were others involved that were just as much to blame as you were.”

“How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“Because that is the way life works,” he answered.

“Lei said I threw myself at him until he had no choice to but to give in,” she argued.

“That's bullshit,” he said. “He could have chosen not to give in, but he did.”

She sniffled again and laid her head against his shoulder. “I know. And I also know that the dream is just my subconscious working through all my guilt and pain. But there was a lot of truth in it.”

“Oh, I'm sure there was. But it was the truth as seen through that guilt and pain.” Matt stroked her hair and breathed in her scent. “There is another truth that can be seen through happiness and love. And still another one as seen through anger and grief. Whatever you are feeling when you recall your memories of Lei colors those memories. That's how our minds work. You just went through a terrible ordeal. I wouldn't trust anything your mind throws at you until you are in a better place mentally.”

She sighed softly and lifted her face to look at him, bringing her lips temptingly close to his. “I suppose you are right. The dream was probably just a product of all that has happened to me over the last month.”

Instead of kissing her on the lips like he wanted, he placed a kiss on her forehead. “Exactly.” He disengaged himself from her and laid her back down onto the bed. “Go back to sleep now.”

Nyah didn’t release his hand, though. “Stay with me for a while?” she asked.

It probably wasn’t a good idea, especially where his mind was right now, but he nodded and lay down next to her, pulling her small body up against his. She sighed and nestled into him as he tried to ignore how nice she felt. She had yet to shower since her resurrection, or whatever it was, so she only smelled of her natural scent, which still reminded him of sunshine.

Over the next few minutes, she slowly relaxed in his arms and her breathing slowed. Matt couldn’t bring himself to leave her, in case her nightmare returned, he reasoned. In reality, he liked the way she felt and smelled, so he stayed and shortly after she fell back to sleep, he followed suit.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all my readers. You guys have been fantastic. Thank you for your enthusiasm and support for this story and my writing! I hope all of you are well and staying safe during these trying times! I'm going to post two chapters this week to make up for not posting last week. Enjoy!

*****

Nyah woke up to a gentle morning light bathing the room and wrapped around a warm presence. Not fully awake, she just lay there with her eyes closed and breathed in Matt’s clean, fresh smell. How many times had she dreamed of waking up beside someone like this? It had always been Lei that she had imagined, though, and not her overprotective downstairs neighbor, but this was nice. Matt was a real, live person, not just a memory of a dream, like Lei. She snuggled closer to him to soak in his warmth and realness.

At her movement, Matt tensed, then his arm that she was laying on curled around her and pulled her closer and held her against him. She could hear his heart beating under her, strong and fast. He turned his body so that he was facing her instead of laying flat on his back and buried his face in her hair.

Neither of them said anything, they just lay there holding each other, offering comfort and human contact. Nyah cannot remember a time when she had been held like this, not even as a child. The thought caused a prickle of tears and her breath caught in her attempt to stave them off.

“It’s okay,” Matt whispered into her hair as his other hand stroked her hair, giving her permission to cry. But she refused to let the tears fall; she had cried enough over the years and she was tired of it. What was the definition of stupidity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? Well, she was tired of being stupid. Her recent dreams had been of Lei telling her to let him go. Whether it was her subconscious or his spirit speaking to her, the message was the same. She might be tied to his ashes forever, but maybe it was time to free her heart. It was a frightening thought, not living her life in the shadow of a dead man, not pining for something she could not have.

The thought brought a smile to her face; it had been a long time since she had been frightened of anything. Surely choosing her own path through life couldn’t be that scary.

Matt pulled back to look down at her, confused by her sudden change. “What?”

She smiled up at him, tears no longer in her eyes and her soul feeling lighter than it had in a long, long time. “Thank you,” she told him simply and raised up just enough to touch her lips to his in a chaste kiss.

Her action was met with a swift intake of his breath as he looked down at her searchingly, then his hand that had been stroking her hair pulled her back to him and his lips came down on hers. She should have been shocked, but all thoughts fled as he moved against her and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. She tentatively kissed him back, lightly flicking the tip of her tongue against his lips.

The change in him was dramatic, holding her head still with his hand tangled in her hair, he took advantage of her slight opening, he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, stroking against hers. His had around her back pulled her even closer so she could feel every inch of his hard body from her knees to her breasts pressed tightly to his chest. She met his tongue with hers as she grew bolder and reached up to rest her hand on the side of his face. He released her lips and looked down at her questioningly. She answered by pulling him back down, her mouth eagerly seeking out his again.

He hungrily kissed her as if he was trying to crawl inside her. A desire she never knew she had rose in her and she arched her body against his and met his hunger with that of her own. With a groan deep in his throat, he rolled her onto her back and leaned over her, not breaking the kiss. He raised his now free hand and spanned her ribs with it just under her breast so that she could it brush the underside when she moved. Just the thought of that hand touching her breast made both her nipples harden. The friction of the shirt against them while pressed to Matt's chest was delicious and she arched her back to press them more firmly against him.

Breaking the kiss to allow both of them to catch their breath, Matt trailed kisses along her jaw and down to her neck where he kissed and sucked at the pulse frantically beating there. Nyah leaned her head to the side to give him better access and he moved lower to where her neck met her shoulder just above her collar bone. He sucked harder here and she gasped with pleasure. Then he bit down on the tender flesh, just hard enough to hurt a little but still feel good. The wet warmth that has developed between her legs intensified and she fisted her hands in bedsheets.

Never in all her imaginings about Lei had she felt this way, nor with the few men she had been with over the years. She wanted him so badly, she was ready to give him whatever he was willing to take.

The repeated ringing of a cellphone broke through to her brain and doused her arousal like a bucket of cold water. Matt pulled away from her with a frown and she took the opportunity to roll out from under him and off the bed.

“You better get that,” she said. “It might be important.” Then she made her escape to the bathroom before he could say anything.

In the bathroom, she stood in front of the mirror and looked at her reflection. Her hair was a mess from sleep, her lips were swollen from Matt's kisses, her nipples could still be seen through the material of his shirt, and there was a light bruise on her neck where it met her should from his love bite.

What the hell was she doing? Letting Lei go and living her own life was one thing, but who was she fooling to think she could ever have a normal relationship? Matt knew about her curse, but could he live with it? Knowing that, every month, she had to go out and find a way to die? Some would be easy or quick deaths, but not all, and he would be there when she came screaming and clawing her way back to life. How could a relationship like that last?

Then doubt crept in. Did he even want a relationship? Or was what happened just a momentary lapse of judgement on his part? Was she reading too much into it? Holy fuck! She was going to have a meltdown if she didn't quit!

There was a light knock at the door. “Hey,” he called softly to her, “can I come in?”

Crap! This was the only bathroom in the apartment and he probably needed to use it.

She straightened up and pulled her shoulders back, then opened the door. He was standing in the middle of the doorway with a hand on each side.

“I'm sorry,” she told him. “I'll let you have it.”

When she moved to leave, he moved to block her. She spun around his body with a graceful move and under his arm to escape the bathroom. Matt grabbed her arm before she could get away completely and swung her around, using his body to trap her against the wall.

“No, you don't,” he ground out. “I'm not going to let you shut me out this time.”

Anger rose in her. Who the hell was he to pry? He had so many secrets that he didn’t share, what gave him the right to demand this of her?

She swung her leg, catching him by surprise and swept his feet out from under him, then darted by him. Instead of falling, though, he caught himself and came after her, grabbing her arm in a tight grip. Already angry, she acted instinctual, over 700 years of trained muscle memory kicking into action. She turned to the side, pulled her arm to bring him closer, and delivered an open palm punch to his ribs. The punch never landed, he brought his arm down to block it, not releasing her arm. She brought her foot up to sweep his knee, and he blocked that move also.

So, he hadn’t been lying when he told her that he took martial arts lessons, she thought. Fine, but he was still blind, and she still had years of experience. She just didn’t want to hurt him. Too much.

She twisted under his arm that held her and got behind him to force him to let go or torque his arm uncomfortably, but he twisted with her and ended up still facing her.

“Stop this!” he ordered her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You stop, before I hurt you!” she retorted and brought her free hand down in a hard chop on his exposed wrist.

Instead of letting go, he yanked her up against his body and attempted to wrap his other arm around her to constrain her further. This time, she was able to use his height and her slight weight against him, crumpling in his grasp so that he had to catch her, putting him off balance. She quickly hooked a foot behind his knees and bent backwards, pulling him up and over her, then using his grasp on her arm as leverage to pull him completely over and dump him on the floor and finally breaking his grip on her. He landed with a thud but jumped agilely back to his feet to face her again.

Matt’s face flushed red with anger as he came at her again. This time, she was just as angry. She’d had enough of this. It was time to cut her losses, grab Lei’s ashes and get the hell out of Hell’s Kitchen. He was between her and the urn, but she could change that.

He reached for her again and she blocked him with an elbow and struck out with a back-fist strike. He blocked it and swung at her in return, which she easily blocked, then countered. Blow, block, blow, block. He was good, but so was she as she allowed him to drive her away from the door of the room. With each exchange, she backed away and circled around the small room until she was up against the bedside table on the far side of the room from the door, effectively trapped between the bed and the wall.

She reached behind her and grabbed the lamp on the table. Why the hell did a blind person have a lamp in his bedroom? She whipped it around, ripping the cord from the plug and flung it at him as a diversion, then grabbed the urn and sprang onto the bed to make a run for the door. Unbelievably, he knocked the lamp flying at his head aside. How the hell?

“No! You aren’t running away!” he yelled at her and jumped onto the bed to follow after her. Both of their weights landing on the bed simultaneously caused it to wobble precariously before one of the legs gave way under the strain and the end of the bed dropped to the floor with a crash, sending both of them careening off of it.

Nyah, landed first and dashed out the bedroom door and down the short hallway, Matt right on her heals. She might have beaten him to the apartment door, but he took a cue from her and grabbed the little table in the hall and flung it at her, making her dodge to the side to avoid it. She couldn’t grab it or block it because she had the urn in that hand, so it crashed against the door, breaking apart and scattering wooden debris on the floor. That move put Matt between her and the door.

She jumped and swung her leg in a high kick to the side of his head. Again, he blocked and planted a palm punch to the middle of her chest, knocking her back a couple of feet. Nyah was through playing around and worrying about hurting him. She couldn’t understand how he was so good at fighting; it was almost as if he could see; like he was just pretending to be blind. No matter, it was time to put an end to this.

She dropped the urn onto the couch beside her and launched herself at him. They traded blows and kicks as they circled each other, looking for an opening, a weakness in each other. Their styles were completely different; she moved like water and wind, full of grace and fluidity, while he moved like fire and earth, abruptly and violently. They were dynamic opposites, but evenly matched. Nyah used the furniture in the apartment to block his movements; putting the couch between them, trying to trip him with the coffee table, sliding the chair into a new position to change the flow of the room. Matt used the furniture as an extension of his fighting style; jumping up on the coffee table to leap at her, shoving the couch into her to force her out from behind it, grabbing the back of the chair to swing himself around fast to escape her kick.

Anything she could grab and lift, she threw at him, but he was able to dodge or block most of it. A book did catch him on the temple, but it was just a glancing blow, and didn’t slow him down. He violently threw things out of his way to get to her, breaking them if necessary.

Nyah was getting no closer to beating him and making her escape when she saw an opportunity. After one furious exchange, she feigned a stumble and went down on a knee to make him think this was his chance. As he stepped forward to take advantage, he stepped on the edge of the rug between the couch and his chairs. She grabbed it, yanking it hard and sending him staggering backwards. He could have caught himself but stepped on a broken table leg that rolled under him. He crashed to the floor.

She jumped up, grabbed the urn off the couch, and ran past him to the door. Once again, though, he was quicker and more accurate than she gave him credit for, and he snagged her foot as she raced by. She went sprawling out on the floor and Lei’s urn flew out of her hand. It bounced once, twice, the lid flying off on the second bounce. The third time it hit the floor the ashes it contain spewed out with a cloud of dust, all over the shoes and lower legs of Karen and she opened the door and stepped into the apartment.


	22. Chapter 22

Everyone froze. Nyah and Matt on the floor, Karen standing in the door covered with human ashes from the knees down, and Foggy behind her on the landing outside.

Karen was the first to recover. “Ew, ew, ew!” she said in a horrified voice, kicking her feet to rid them of the dust.

“Stop!” Nyah cried, holding her hand out imploringly. “You'll scatter him even more!”

Karen stopped kicking her feet and held still, “that is so gross!”

Foggy edged around the distraught Karen, avoiding the spilled ashes as best he could, so he could shut the door behind her.

“What the hell happened here?” he asked, looking around the destruction.

“Never mind,” Matt told him as he stood up. “I'll get a broom and dustpan.”

Nyah got up also and walked slowly towards Karen, “I'm sorry. Just please hold still for a few minutes and we will get the worst of it off you. Okay?”

Karen nodded wordlessly as Nyah knelt at her feet and started using her hands to gather the ashed into a bigger pile. She reached over and grabbed the urn and started scooping them into it.

“I have to get most of it back into the urn,” she explained. “If more of it ends up in the trash than in the urn, the next time I come back will be in whatever landfill your garbage goes to. I don't even want to think about where I would come back if it went down the drain.”

“Here,” Matt said, coming up behind her and handing her the broom, “this should work better.”

“Thanks.”

Together, the two of them gathered up almost all of the ashes, plus a little dust, dirt, glass, and wood splinters, but that didn't matter. When they were done, Foggy had a damp towel ready to help Karen clean off her legs, feet, and shoes.

Matt came up to Nyah and held out his hand, “let me take that and put it somewhere safe for now. Please.”

Her anger may have cooled down, but it hadn't burned out yet. Even though she knew he was offering her an olive branch, she clutched the urn to her chest and eyed him distrustfully.

“I think I need some time alone,” she said. “I'm going to go up to my place for a little while.”

She backed away from Matt, unwilling to trust him enough to turn her back on him. She siddled around Foggy and Karen.

“I'm sorry about that, Karen. We'll talk later,” she said quietly, as she reached for the door.

“I'll be up in a bit,” Karen told her.

“Take your time. I just need some time alone for now.”

“Okay,” Karen said, understanding. “I'll be here if you need anything.”

With that, Nyah left the apartment and went upstairs to try to get her thoughts together.

****  
When the door clicked shut behind Nyah, Karen turned to Matt. “What the hell just happened?”

Matt found a dining chair that was still intact, uprighted it and sat down with a long sigh. He motioned for the two of them to find chairs. Foggy drug one of the living room chairs over for Karen to sit, then grabbed another dining chair for himself.

“This place looks like you guys were attacked,” he said.

Matt shook his head, “only by a couple of idiots.”

“Wait,” Karen said looking startled, “you mean, you guys did this? Why? How?”

“We were fighting,” he said. “I got mad, then she got mad, suddenly...,” he trailed off and gestured to the destruction around them.

“Matt,” she said softly, “normal people do not do things like this just because they get mad at each other.”

Matt jumped up from his chair, “I know!” He started agitated pacing. “We aren't exactly normal.”

“You can say that again,” Foggy muttered.

“Not helping, Foggy,” Karen chided him.

“Matt,” Karen tried again, “tell us what happened.”

Matt gave them a summarized version of last night and this morning, leaving out the part where they made out. Saying it out loud made it sound even more ludicrous than it had seemed in the heat of the moment. He knew his anger had been disproportionate, and didn't know why he had reacted so strongly to something so small. He basically told Karen the same thing.

“You care about her a lot, don't you?” Karen asked.

Matt stopped his pacing and sat down again, “of course, I do. We are friends and I hate to see her hurting.”

“No, it's more than that, I think, and you are kidding yourself if you think otherwise,” she said.

“I'm not sure what I think,” Matt said handing his head.

“Well, at least that's honest,” Foggy chimed in. “Now, you need to tell her.”

Karen nodded, “he's right.”

Matt started shaking his head, but she stopped him. “Matt, just think about it. She has been alone all this time to deal with all this. Suddenly, she had friends, something she had never really had. She has someone that cares deeply about her. Do you think she has the social skills to know what you are feeling unless you straight up tell her?”

Foggy jumped in, “she has a point. And even if she did have the social skills, she comes from a completely different culture. And, hell, the only other person that she thinks loved her couldn't even express his love openly.”

“She has no frame of reference,” Karen finished.

Matt sat there and thought about what they were telling him. If they were right, then she was just as confused as he was. But what if she didn't feel the same?

“Or you can just stay there and watch her pack up her shit and leave,” Foggy finished. “Your call.”

Karen and Foggy helped Matt clean up most of the mess; righting the furniture, putting things back in the right place, sweeping up shards of glass and other broken bits and pieces. The furniture and items that were broken beyond repair were placed in a pile by the door to be taken out later. Together, they took the broken bed frame apart and just left the mattress on the floor.

It was mid-afternoon by the time they were through, so they ordered food and when it arrived, Karen took her and Nyah's portions and went upstairs to see if she was ready to talk.

****

Nyah let Karen in and thanked her for bringing food. She was starving and had nothing to eat in her apartment.

As they ate, Karen asked her, “do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Didn't Matt already tell you?” she asked in return.

Karen nodded, “yes. His version of it. I'd like to hear yours.”

Nyah told her about the nightmare and waking up with Matt holding her, about him staying with her through the night. When she got to what happened that morning, she told Karen the truth.

Karen looked thoughtful, “I thought something like that had happened. People just don't go from a quiet conversation to full on hurricane mode.”

“So, people go from making out to full on hurricane mode instead?” she chuckled.

“People like you and Matt do,” Karen told her earnestly. “Neither of you are good at expressing your emotions. You just keep them bottled up, thinking that if you let them out, something bad is going to happen.”

“Well, something bad did happen,” Nyah pointed out.

“You missed the point,” Karen said, impatiently. “That happened because the two of you hold everything in until it explodes on you.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I don't know how to be just a normal person, Matt. Not like and Foggy.”

Karen laughed out loud at that. “We are far from normal,” she said. “But why would you try to be normal? Why can't you just be you?”

She turned to look at Karen, “because I don't know how to do that either!” Her voice threatened to crack but she continued, “growing up in the palace as the daughter of the Great Khan, I had to play the role that was expected of me. When Lei became my teacher, everything I did was to please him. Even more so when I fell in love with him. Ever since his death, I have just lived this damn curse. Don't you see? The only time I ever did something just for me, not only did I get the man I loved killed, but I also ended up cursed!”

Karen remained silent as she continued, “I want to live for myself and actually have a life, but I don't know how, and I am scared that I will screw that up too.”

“Then you aren't any different than any of the rest of us,” her friend assured her. “That is what living is all about. You do the best you can, figuring it out along the way. When you screw things up, you learn from it and move on, trying not to repeat the same mistakes. If you live your life afraid to make mistakes, then you don't really live at all. You are just going through the motions.”

“But people got hurt, killed because of my mistakes,” she argued.

“All you can do is try to not hurt people by your actions. But you can't obsess over it. You cannot go back and change what happened. In all the years that you have beaten yourself up over it, has it changed anything?”

She just shook her head.

“I think you have punished yourself enough, don't you?”

Nyah sighed, “you are right. How did you get so smart? I've been alive for over 700 years. You would think I would be the wise woman by now.”

“That's the thing,” Karen pulled her in for a hug, “you haven't really been living.”

“So, what now?” Nyah asked.

“You can start by coming downstairs and being social with your friends who care a lot about you. Enough to clean up the mess you and our other idiot friend made!” Karen laughed.

Nyah laughed with her, feeling freer than she had in a long time.

****

Matt looked up when Karen and Nyah walked in. Karen immediately walked over and sat down on the couch by Foggy, but Nyah hovered by the door, still clutching the urn to her chest. He didn't know what to expect, but he felt that he should be the one to take the first step to mend their friendship.

He stood up and walked over to her, stopping in front of her with enough space between them so she didn't feel threatened.

“I'm sorry,” he simply said, extending a hand to her.

She swallowed, “so am I.” Then after a slight hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his chest, hugging him tightly. He rested his head on the top of hers and hugged her back.

“Well,” Foggy said from behind them, “Karen and I better get back to work. Someone has to earn money to pay for all this.”

“You kids be good and try to leave the building standing this time,” Karen said as they walked past Matt and Nyah to the door.

When the door closed behind them, Matt chuckled, “subtle.”

Nyah giggled against his chest, the vibrations traveling up and down both their bodies. “They mean well.”

Matt grasped her by the shoulders and leaned away from her, “are you ready to talk? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want. I was an ass for trying to force you to talk so soon after what you just went through.”

She looked up at him and asked, “are you willing to talk too?”

He sighed and she tensed under his hands. He had almost automatically told her no, but he realized that she was trusting him with her secrets, so maybe he could trust her with his.

He nodded instead, “I think so.” He smiled a little and qualified his answer, “at least I'll try. I'm not used to being open with anyone.”

She smiled back, “I understand. This is new ground for me, too.”

He dropped his hands from her shoulders and took her hand to lead her into the remains of his living room. “Then let's try together and see what happens.”


	23. Chapter 23

Matt positioned the two chairs so that they faced each other, and they sat down. There was an awkward silence between them for a few moments since neither knew how to even begin the conversation they needed to have.

Nyah shifted nervously in her chair, then blurted out, “how is it that you can fight so well?”

He smiled and relaxed a bit, that was an easy question. “I was blinded when I was just a kid. Shortly afterwards, I discovered that my other senses had become hyper-aware. I can hear things most people can’t, and I can sense things like temperature changes, electricity in the air, vibrations. All this help me 'see' the world around me almost as well as you can, if not better sometimes.”

She cocked her head and looked at him dubiously, “how so?”

“Well, right now, I can tell you are nervous because your heart-rate is elevated, and the temperature of your skin is higher than normal. You are twisting your hands in your lap, another nervous habit.” Taking a deep breath, he plunged on, “when you first moved in, I could hear and feel you moving around in your apartment. The area where you do your Ti Chi is almost right over my bedroom. I would lay in bed and follow your movements.” He smiled at himself, “creepy, I know. But that is also how I was always out on the landing waiting for you in the morning. I would know when you where up and when you left your apartment.”

“Wow, you would make a hell of a stalker,” she smiled. “That explains a lot, though. But what about the fighting?”

This was a bit more difficult for him. “When I was older, I found a mentor who taught me how to fight. He always said he was preparing me for this great battle that was coming, but would never tell me anything about it, just that I needed to be ready.”

“What happened to him?” she asked.

“I finally figured out that he didn't really care about me, only this battle, so I told him to fuck off and he left. He comes back from time to time to try to get me to commit to his cause, but I always tell him no in the end.” Matt sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I still don't know what this epic battle is, but I know that when it comes, I want to meet it on my terms, not his.”

She nodded, understanding. “That is what I am struggling with. I think all my nightmares are my subconscious trying to tell me that I need to start living my life on my terms. The problem is that I don't know what I want or how to go about figuring it out.”

“I think we are in the same boat, there,” he told her. “But I'm not finished.”

She leaned back, “okay.”

“I know about that night you were killed by being shot in the head,” he said.

She sat back up in her chair, “what? How?”

“I followed you that night. Your sudden disappearances were a mystery I just had to solve. I thought you were in trouble and I wanted to help you, or you were up to something bad, and I needed to stop you. Either way, I followed you. I was there when you were shot. You saved me that night.” He stopped and waited for her to put it together.

Her brow furrowed as she considered what he told her. He could tell the instant she figured it out, her heart jumped and started racing and she flushed all over.

“You're him? You're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen?” her voice rose, and she jumped up out of her chair. Matt stayed in his chair, sitting still and just following her agitated movements.

“Oh, Heavens, it makes so much sense now! All the cuts and bruises you always have. You got them catching criminals. I'm such an idiot for not realizing it sooner!” she berated herself.

“Well, don't be too hard on yourself, my best friend didn’t figure it out until he caught me in my suit,” he told her.

“Karen knows too?” At his nod, she continued, “now I understand.” She flopped down in the chair and it creaked dangerously under her weight. “Wow.”

Matt finally moved, leaning forward in his chair towards her. “Are you okay with this?”

“Am I okay with this?” she echoed. “Matt, I die every month and am resurrected. I'm over 700 years old. I would be history's greatest hypocrite if I wasn't.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes while it sunk in on both of them. He couldn't believe how well she was taking his revelation. Maybe there was hope.

Nyah was the first to break the silence, “I'll buy you new furniture to replace all we broke. After all, I did throw the first punch.”

“We were pretty well matched, though.”

“Oh, I was taking it easy on you because you were blind. I didn't want to hurt you.”

He laughed, “I was the one taking it easy on you. I only wanted to keep you from leaving, not hurt you.”

“I hear a rematch in our future,” her voice lightly teasing.

Matt laughed again, “maybe next time, we do it upstairs on your training area.”

She laughed too, “yeah, but let's put Lei's ashes somewhere safe first!”

“What's next?” Matt asked her, not sure if he meant their relationship or the human trafficking ring.

“I have an idea, but you aren't going to like it,” she said.

So, she was going to focus on the ring instead of them. He could live with that for now. “Okay, let's hear it.”

She was right, he didn't like it. At all.

****  
Nyah had been thinking about the partial failure of her first plan. True, they had saved, or Matt had saved, the women in the warehouse, but they were no closer to finding Mrs. Vitalidi’s daughter or Alice. Nor were they any closer to putting an end to the enterprise and seeing that those responsible got what they deserved. Thinking back on it, she realized that the failure was all on her: she had not let the others in on her plan, so they were unable to anticipate and adapt as conditions change.

This time, she would do it differently. They would be involved from the beginning and help her plan it. Well, hopefully they would. If she could convince them that it was sound idea.

****

Foggy and Karen didn't like the idea either.

“Oh, hell no!”

“Absolutely not!”

“I've already told her the same thing,” Matt said.

“Okay, then come up with a better plan for nailing these bastards,” Nyah challenged them.

“Look, we are four intelligent people. Surely we can come up with something that doesn't put you back at risk.” Karen looked at the two men for support.

“Yeah, the last plan that did that didn't work out so well for you.” Of course, Matt would be the one to bring that up.

“Do you really think I want to do this?” Nyah looked from one of them to another. “If we don't catch this guy in a way that he can't possibly get out of, every one of us will be in danger. Not to mention the fact that they will just keep on kidnapping young women and selling them to perverts.”

The three of them didn't have a comeback for that.

Karen, as always, was the voice of reason. “We don't have to decide right now. Like you said, Nyah, we have almost an entire month. At least give us a chance to try to devise another plan, okay.”

That wasn't an unreasonable request, Nyah thought. And to be honest, her plan scared the hell out of her, so she nodded in assent. “Three weeks, but then we have to move forward one way or another.”

It was late and they were all tired, so Karen and Foggy said goodnight and took their leave of Matt and Nyah. Before she closed the door behind her, Karen turned around and caught Nyah's attention.

“Hey, I forgot to tell you, Mrs. Vitalidi stopped by this morning looking for you.”

“Did she say what she wanted?” Nyah asked her.

“No, but she seemed sad,” Karen said. “I think she has given up on finding her daughter.”

“I can't say I blame her; it's been nearly five months since she disappeared,” Nyah said glumly.

“I know,” she grudgingly agreed. “She said she was going to stop by tomorrow around ten. If you're not doing anything like getting killed or beaten up or destroying Matt's apartment, you could stop by the office.”

Nyah smiled weakly at her jibe, “I'll stop by.”

“Ok, see you then.” Karen shut the door behind her, leaving Matt and Nyah alone in the apartment.

****  
Once again, they were alone in his apartment, this time there were no big revelations or a fight to distract him from the tension that suddenly existed between them. He knew what he wanted to do but was so busy second-guessing himself that he was effectively frozen by indecision. Only when Nyah got up, did he realize they had been sitting in uncomfortable silence for several minutes.

“It's getting late and you actually need to go to work in the morning. Karen said you have a hearing first thing in the morning.” She gathered up her few belongings, including that damn urn and turned towards the door.

The thought of her leaving finally galvanized Matt into action.

“Wait,” he said, rising from his chair. “Stay here tonight.”

She stopped and turned back towards him, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, especially after what happened this morning.”

“Are you referring to our fight or what happened before it?” He asked her, rising and walking across the room towards her.

“Both, I suppose,” she shrugged her answer, a bit of a frown between her eyes as she watched him approach. “Karen says we both suck at this kind of thing and she’s right. It isn’t healthy that we went from making out on the bed to trying to kill each other in less than five minutes, don’t you agree?”

Stopping close enough that he could reach out and touch her but not so close as to make her feel threatened, he took in the tension that radiated from her. It felt as if she was on the verge of bolting again and he wasn’t sure he could keep from going after her, which might result in a repeat of the events of the morning. He would have to try a different approach.

“She’s not wrong, but I don’t think she’s entirely right.” He held out a hand to her, palm up, and gestured to the door. “Let’s go up. I want to show you something.”

With only a slight hesitation, she nodded, turned and led the way.

****   
Inside her apartment, she again turned to face him, wondering what he was up to. What could he want to show her in her own apartment?

“May I?” he nodded past her.

She licked her lips nervously, “go ahead.”

He walked past her into the dark apartment, “come on.” He paused and said over his shoulder, “leave the lights off. Live in my world for a bit.”

Silently, she followed him as she moved through her space as if it was his own; navigating obstacles and walking swiftly and surely to the stairs that lead downstairs to the open space. In the exact middle of the space, he came to a halt and turned to face her again.

“Do you trust me?” he asked her abruptly.

Wary of his intentions, she answered him cautiously, “maybe.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled as he pulled something out of his pocket and held it up for her to see.

“What’s that?” She stepped closer to see it in the darkness. It looked like a scrap of cloth.

“It’s a blindfold. Turn around,” he said.

She almost said no, but she had to admit that she was curious. She turned and waited. Standing with her back to him was unnerving, she didn’t like not being able to see what he was up to, so when he touched her on the shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin. What had happened to the calm woman that nothing fazed that moved in less than six months ago? How did she go from that to this ragged bundle of nerves?

She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing until her heart was calm and she no longer felt like jumping out of her skin. Matt stood behind her, still and quiet, giving her the time she needed. A peace she had not felt for days descended; time slowed. With her eyes closed, she could hear his breathing behind her and after a few breaths, realized that it was echoing hers.

“Okay,” she told him softly.

His hand on her should lifted and the cloth was draped over her eyes then tied firmly behind her head. She stayed still as he stepped away, waiting for his instruction. His steps were light as he circled around her, but still easy to follow.

“Now you're in my world,” his voice was suddenly loud after the long silence and echoed slightly in the openness of the room. “All you have to do is touch me. I'll make it easy for you by staying within arm’s reach.”

“Just touch you?”

“Yes,” he said. “Sound easy?”

“Deceptively so,” she replied lightly, but her skin prickled with goosebumps at the thought. She had fought him almost to a standstill earlier, but this was different. This morning was fueled by anger and desperation. She wasn't sure what this was, but it was more intimate feeling, more sensual. Even blindfolded, she was hyper-aware of his presence so near to her. It was distracting.

“Begin.”

His voice was behind her, so she spun clockwise, reaching out with her right hand and grabbing...nothing. He was no longer there. Spinning back the other way to catch him coming around from that direction, she was met by empty air again. She made several more fruitless attempts, becoming increasingly frustrated.

“You're just guessing instead of using your senses,” he taunted from her left. She spun towards him, only to miss once again.

“Is this how Wen Lei taught you?” he asked from behind her.

Furious, she kicked out this time, trying to catch him off guard. Nothing.

“What happened to that peace you found not long ago?”

Spin. Miss.

“You're reacting on instinct instead of thinking.”

Counter-spin. Miss.

“You're not learning from your mistakes.”

Spin. Miss.

“You are better than this.”

She stopped abruptly. He was right. She was trained to stay calm, to think, to anticipate, to learn. The only thing that had changed was the blindfold. Everything else was the same. Surely, she could adapt.

Once again, she focused on her breathing, slowing it and squelching her frustration. When she was calm, she listened. His breathing was still matching hers, calm and even, at her eight-o'clock position. Before she spun, she shifted her weight on her feet slightly as if she was going to spin counterclockwise. Her muscles tensed and she swiftly spun clockwise instead.

Nyah's hand struck Matt on the shoulder.

She got him!

“Got you!”

He laughed with her and she pulled the blindfold off her eyes. The room was still shrouded in darkness, but after the pitch black of the blindfold, it seemed much brighter. She could make out Matt's face and his smile. It made him look younger and was infectious. She grinned back at him.

“Again?” he asked.

“Yes!”

They joined in a dance of forms: hers like the smooth flow of water and wind, he like the abrupt movements of earth and fire. They twisted and spun across the floor of the room, silent and swift in the dark, like ghosts and shadows. More often than not, he escaped her touch, but she was victorious enough to keep the game going for over an hour.

Finally, they collapsed on the floor, both panting but strangely renewed.

“Are you hungry?” Matt asked her.

Nyah had been in the process of stretching, feeling her tired muscles release their tension. She was about to say no, but her stomach chose that moment to growl. They both burst out laughing.

“I don’t need to answer now!”

“I’m going to grab a quick shower downstairs. Meet you in twenty minutes?” he asked as he sat up.

“Sure.” She stood and held out a hand to help him up. He took it and allowed her to pull him up. Together, they went upstairs. In the main apartment, she asked, “Can you let yourself out?”

“Yeah, see you in a bit.”

He headed for the door and she went to her bathroom to shower.


	24. Chapter 24

Half an hour later, they were seated in a booth at the diner down the street. There were few other customers due to the late hour, so the waitress sat behind the counter, reading a book and sipping her coffee while they waited for their order. She was wearing a strong, sickly sweet perfume that Matt could taste when he inhaled. He took a drink of his water, but it was also tainted by the smell.

“What’s wrong?” Nyah asked from her side of table.

“The waitress’s perfume is so strong, I can taste it,” her replied.

She made a little frown, “It was pretty strong when she was over here, but I don’t smell it anymore, now that she’s gone.”

“My sense of smell is very sensitive.”

She shifted uncomfortably in the booth, “I’ve been wanting to ask you about that.”

He could tell that she was looking at him for his permission to continue. “Okay.”

“Well,” she began, “I was thinking about what you told me. You know, your heightened senses. But to be honest, I’ve been around blind people over the years, and none of them can do what you do.”

He nodded, “Yeah, its not common, I know.”

“Yeah, but, here’s the thing: you claim to be able to ‘see’ using your sense of hearing and other senses. I don’t think that’s normal.”

Now it was his turn to shift uncomfortably, “I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

“That didn’t come out right,” she sighed in frustration. “Look at it this way: we live in a world where we have men in metal suits flying around, aliens trying to invade, gods walking the earth, and humans with mutations that give them extraordinary abilities. And they are everywhere, not just in the Avengers, Shield, and Hydra. They are down here one the streets, too. Just like the rest of us. Hell, I’m over 700 years old and die every month!”

She paused to take a breath. “Have you ever stopped to think that you might be one of them. Of us? That your heightened senses aren’t completely natural. That they are a superpower of some kind?”

Finished, she flopped back on her bench. Matt started to reply, but the waitress appeared by their table with their order. The perfume was so overwhelming that it made him slightly nauseous. Plus, it drowned out all other smells, leaving him nose blind.

When the waitress left, Nyah giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “I see what you mean,” she told him. “I think I can taste it now!”

He looked at the food on the table dubiously, pretty sure he couldn’t eat it now if he tried. She had no such problem, digging in with enthusiasm. He watched with amusement as she devoured her eggs and bacon.

“Back to what I was saying,” she said between bites. “What do you think?”

He shrugged, “I guess, but it really doesn’t matter what you call it. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Actually, it does,” she pointed her fork at him for emphasis. “If it is a superpower, then you might be able to control it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay,” she set her fork down and looked at him earnestly, “take this thing you have right now with the waitress’s perfume overwhelming your sense of taste. It’s keeping you from eating, right?” At his nod, she continued, “I’m going to assume you have similar problems with your other senses, right.”

“Yeah, really loud noises can render me unable to use my hearing.”

“Have you tried to filter it out? You know, actually chose what you are paying attention to. Our senses are bombarded constantly by stimuli from the environment around us, but our brain filters it out so that we only pay attention to the important stuff. It’s unconscious in that context, but we can control it too. Imagine sitting in a restaurant surrounded by noise and you hear the couple at the next table say something that catches your interest. What do you do?”

“I focus on them and tune out everything else, I guess,” he said starting to understand what she was getting at. “So, you are suggesting that I might be able to tune out the perfume?”

“What would it hurt to try? Try to focus on the smell of the food on your plate. Maybe you can eat it before it gets cold,” she picked up her fork again and continued her attack on the food on her plate.

She had a valid point, he thought. He should at least give it a shot. Focusing his attention on the burger in front of him, he tried to get a whiff of it through the perfume smell. Fortunately for him, it had started to dissipate now that its source was on the other side of the diner from them and he was able to smell it slightly. He narrowed his focus on it more and the smell grew stronger. After several long moments, the perfume faded into the background and he was able to smell the individual components of the burger including the type of oil used on the grill to cook it.

His stomach growled hungrily. Nyah giggled again.

“Better?” she asked.

He smiled up at her, “you’re right. But it takes time and focus to make it happen.”

He picked up the burger and took a big bite. It was delicious.

“Well, yeah, not even you can be great at something the very first time you try it,” she mocked. “I would imagine it’s just like any other skill; the more you practice and use it, the better you will get at it. The thing is to not let your strengths become your weaknesses. Or keep you from eating,” she grinned at him.

They spent the rest of the meal in pleasant conversation, the tension between them gone. Afterwards, Nyah excused herself to go to the bathroom. While she was away, Matt paid for their food, smiling to himself when the waitress’s perfume no longer overwhelmed him as she brought him their cheque.

After waiting a few minutes, he decided to gather up their belongings and wander to the door to wait for her. As he stood there, absently listening to the light traffic and occasional pedestrian, he heard a familiar car pull out of the alley and drive past, accelerating as it went. He had followed Detective Maroney enough to recognize his car from that the odd clicking sound from a bad CV joint combined with a hissing sound from the exhaust system. If he hadn’t been with Nyah, he would have been tempted to follow the detective, after all, it was past time for the Devil to be out and about. Maybe once they got back to the apartment, he could change and head out to find the crooked cop.

He turned and looked towards the bathrooms, but Nyah still had not emerged. Concerned, he left his spot by the door and went to the back. The hall to the bathrooms went past the kitchen to the back wall of the diner then made a left and connected back to the kitchen. The bathroom doors were on the interior wall and there was a door to outside at the end of the hallway before it ended. The exterior door was slightly ajar, and Matt pushed it open and stepped into the alley. Over the smells of cooking, garbage, and exhaust, he caught Nyah’s faint scent along with the acrid smell of the cigarettes that Maroney favored.

With a sinking feeling he went back in and went to the women’s bathroom to verify that she was not inside. She wasn’t.

****  
Well, hell, Nyah thought to herself from the trunk of Maroney’s car. How did she get herself into these situations?

It had been a good evening up until the point when she had exited the bathroom and ran into Maroney, who had been waiting for her. Before she could call out or defend herself, he had covered her mouth and nose with a cloth soaked in a pungent sweet liquid, probably chloroform or ether. No matter which, she went down like a rock and woke up in the trunk of his car.

She was jostled when the car hit a pothole, unable to brace herself with her hands bound behind her back. Her feet were also bound, probably with the same duct tape that was across her mouth. The trunk was too dark to be able to make out anything, but she kept bumping against something behind her that felt like it was in a duffel bag. A big duffel bag because her head, hands, and feet all bumped against it, though it could be two bags. She tried feeling around for something to use to free herself, but the car turned off the paved road onto a graveled surface and slowed to a stop.

She braced herself as someone got out of the driver’s side and the gravel crunched beneath their feet as they walked to the back of the car. A click sounded as the lock was disengaged and the trunk slowly opened. She blinked up at the silhouette of Maroney standing over her, backlit by headlights from another car. She heard another set of footsteps approaching as another man joined him.

“This her?” the other man asked. “She doesn’t look like much.”

“Don’t let her looks fool you. She resourceful and has some pretty good allies.” Maroney told him. “I need you to find out who they are. They have the computer from the warehouse.”

“Don’t worry, by the time I’m done with her, she will give up her own mother,” the other man said with a snicker.

“She better,” Maroney didn’t share his humor.

“And when I’m done with her?”

“Get rid of her,” Maroney spat. “I’m tired of dealing with her.”

“Got it.”

The man reached down and drug her out of the trunk and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack. “Come on, we are going to have some fun.”

She was laid on the floor in the back of the van almost gently. The van dipped, then the man loomed over her, younger than she had thought initially, probably not very far into his thirties, and well groomed. His blue eyes were chilling cold and belied his mild expression. Reaching past her, he grabbed a thick collar hanging from a short chain anchored to the floor of the van by a weld pad eye. He deftly fastened the collar around her neck, tugging on it to ensure it was secure.

Finished, he smiled down at her, “you’re not going anywhere now. Don’t get too comfortable, we’re not going far.”

Then he jumped out of the back of the van and slammed the door shut before she could respond. She heard him get into the driver’s side and craned her head to look. It was just him and her in the van. One on one. Not bad odds, but still not in her favor as long as she was chained and bound. She attempted to sit up, but the chain was too short to allow her to rise any higher than a crouch on her knees. She was knocked back to the floor, wrenching her shoulders, when the van was started and reversed out of the parking area, then rolled when it stopped and changed direction quickly. The chain stopped her roll abruptly, jerking her neck painfully.

Deciding it would be a better idea to lie on her stomach, she flipped over. Now she could look around the area better. To her dismay, the back of the van was empty. There was nothing she might be able to use to free herself. Defeated for the moment, she let her face drop to the dirty floor and rested to preserve her strength until she had a better opportunity.

****  
Foggy and Karen arrived at Matt’s apartment shortly after he called them. When he filled them in on what he believed happened, Karen paled.

“This can’t be happening!” she wailed.

“Matt, I think it’s time we admit we’re in over our heads,” Foggy told him over Karen’s shoulder as he hugged her and stroked her back soothingly.

“And do what?” Matt demanded, his face flushing and his hands forming fists at his sides. “Who do we trust? Not the police, that’s for sure! The FBI? How would we explain everything we know?”

“Ok, then what do you suggest?”

“Karen, is the tracker in Maroney’s car still active?” He asked.

She shook her head, “I don’t think so, but I can check.” Pulling out her phone, she opened the app. “Nope, it’s dead. They only have so much battery life, you know.”

“Ok, plan B,” Matt said turning and heading to his bedroom. “Pull up all the places that he went to after work while the tracker was working. I’ll go find him.”

“What are you going to do when you find him?” Foggy called after him.

“You don’t want to know,” he called back.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment and thank all of my readers. You guys are absolutely fabulous! When I first started writing this story last year, I wasn't sure how it would be received, but you guys have gleefully embraced it. For that I am eternally thankful. 
> 
> I thought when the stay at home order came that I would get a lot of writing done while I was working from home. I was sadly wrong. I am still supporting my 500 fellow employees that are considered essential and continue to work full time as if none of this is happening. Not only that, but I am making homemade face masks for them in my spare time using my quilting stash. Plus, I am in the middle of selling the farm and moving. So much is happening, that I have had few chances to write. But never fear, I have 34 chapters written. They just need editing before posting, so it will be a while before I run out of material to post. The sad part is that I now know approximately how many chapters there are left in this story. I am in the middle of writing the climax to the story line, so I estimate that there are about 3 to 5 chapters left. All good things must come to an end, I guess.
> 
> Finally, a couple of you have pointed out an inconsistency in the story (Ann_Agapi I tried to reply to your kind comment but AO3 won't allow me to for some strange reason!). Maroney and Mahoney are the same character. He started out as Maroney, but for some reason I changed it to Mahoney at some point. I tried to go back and correct it, but I guess I failed. This was the second story that I wrote and I hadn't learned to write down all my character's names on a reference page. I know better now. I apologize for any confusion. Chalk it up to freshman stupidity! I will try to catch it from now on as I edit, but no guarantees!
> 
> I love all you guys! I hope all of you are staying safe out there and taking precautions to protect yourselves, your loved ones, and others around you! Here is an extra chapter this week for you.

Chapter 25

One would think that after dying in almost every way imaginable, she would have a high tolerance for pain, but right now, hanging from a metal rack attached to a generator, all she could think about was how much she was hurting. Just another one of the ironies of her long life, another cosmic ‘fuck you’. Still, this guy was going to have to get a lot more creative if he wanted anything out of her.

She hung limply from her bonds, blood dripping down her chin from where she had bitten her tongue multiple times over the last hour or so. At least she thought it was an hour; she had no real way to tell the passage of time other than the breaks between her captor triggering the generator to release its voltage on her.

Speaking of her captor, he approached her and lifted her head by her hair to force her to look at his face.

“Had enough yet?” he asked her in a deceptively gentle voice. Everything he had done to her and said had been that way. He hadn’t been rough with her even when she had kicked out at him and fought like a wild animal to get free. He had casually held another cloth over her mouth until she was unconscious then carried her in and strapped her to the rack. He hadn’t raised his voice once while questioning her and had even offered her water during breaks between the torture sessions. It somehow made what he was putting her through even more horrific. Like being beaten by a sweet little old lady. Maybe he would offer her some cookies and milk at one point, she thought and giggled a little at the image.

He frowned at her reaction, not knowing it was from her private thoughts and not his question. It was the first emotion he had shown besides his mild concern and calmness. Maybe she was starting to get to him. If she did, he might make a mistake in her favor.

****

After failing to find Maroney at his usual bar or his apartment, Matt managed to track him down at the women's center with Mrs. Williams. Waiting outside in the alley, hidden in shadows, he listened as they sat in her car and argued over continuing to use the women's center as the source of the women they were abducting. The director thought it was too risky and if Nyah was able to put together the connection between it and the missing women, then it wouldn't be long before someone else did. Maroney assured her that he and his partner combined with the DA had that covered and she was protected. She was still skeptical of how protected she would be when and if it all came out.

“How do I know you guys won't use me as your scapegoat? You have all the power, I'm expendable,” she pointed out.

“When it comes down to it, Cynthia, we are all expendable. The only one that is untouchable is the boss,” he reasoned.

“That doesn't make me feel any better,” she grumbled as she picked at her nails.

“Well, this should,” he told her. “The boss wants us to lay low for a few weeks until we take care of the current problem.”

She sighed in relief, “that's good to hear.”

“So, you're good? No more panicking?” he asked her.

“No, I'm okay. I just needed some reassurances, that's all. Now, I have to go, my daughter is home by herself right now.” She turned on the car and looked over at her passenger. “She has been taken care of this time, right?”

He nodded as he opened his door to get out of the car, “oh, yes. She won't be bothering us anymore.”

Matt's stomach lurched at the statement and he resisted the urge to throttle the man right then and there. Instead, he waited as the director drove away and Maroney walked to his car. As he opened the door, Matt burst out of the alley and slammed his head into the top of the car. Unconscious, he slumped, and Matt let him fall to the ground, then he drug the detective into the alley to the back door of the women's center.

When Maroney came to, he was tied to a chair in an empty room in the back of the offices. Matt stood in front of him in his Devil of Hell's Kitchen suit, his arms crossed, appraising the dirty cop. Maroney struggled frantically at his restraints and almost topped himself over, until Matt stepped forward and punched him hard in the face. Blood spurted from his nose and he stopped struggling to glower at his attacker.

“What the fuck? Do you know who I am?” he sputtered indignantly.

“Detective Douglas M. Maroney,” Matt said, walking around the chair. Maroney tried to follow his progress but gave up when Matt stopped directly behind him.

“So, you know how much trouble you're in, right?”

“Not as much trouble as you are in,” Matt countered as he considered his next move. He had no problem with violence, but he needed to get what he needed fast.

“Where is the woman?” he asked Maroney.

“What woman?”

Instead of responding, he slapped the detective hard across his ear with his open hand.

“Fuck!” Maroney yelled.

“Wrong answer, Detective,” he said as he circled to stand in front of the man again.

“Let's try this again,” he growled. “Where is the woman?”

“I don't know who you're talking about.”

Matt punched him in the face again. There was a sickening crunch as the detective's nose broke.

His howl of pain was cut off abruptly when Matt punched him in the stomach, twice, leaving him wheezing.

Matt circled behind him again to keep him on edge; making him wonder when and where the next attack would come.

“You are going to tell me one way or another,” Matt ground out harshly, “it's just a matter of how much you want to hurt before you tell me.”

“You're a fucking dead man,” Maroney sputtered, trying to maintain his bravado. He was opened his mouth to say something else, but Matt grabbed his shoulder with both hands and yanked it backwards. There was a wet pop and the detective screamed in pain. It was loud and echoed through the office space. Matt found a discarded scarf in one of the offices to use as a gag

“That's one shoulder,” He said.

“Fuck you!” Maroney yelled at him.

Maroney's scream was muffled by the scarf when his other shoulder popped out of its socket. Matt paced the floor behind him while he waited for the man to quiet down. He was feeling the pressure of time ticking by. The longer this took, the longer it would take him to get to Nyah. Even though he knew death for her was just a temporary inconvenience, the thought of her suffering was like a knife in his ribs and made it difficult for him to breath. Hence the brutality of his actions. He had never shied away from violence, even embraced it at times, but torturing someone like this was a whole new level of violence. Every time he was forced to go down this road, for whatever righteous reason, he was aware of the toll it took on his psyche. He worried that one day he would go too far and there would be no coming back. Tonight might be that night. But he was going to find Nyah, no matter the cost.

When he thought Maroney had enough time, he walked around in front of him and pulled the scarf free.

“Where is she?”

Maroney coughed out a hoarse laugh. “You're too late. She'll be dead by the time you reach her.”

Matt's heart thudded so hard in his chest that he was sure the other man could hear it. He hoped Maroney was bluffing, but he sounded like he believed it. Regardless, Matt was going to call his bluff.

“Then there's no reason not to kill you right now,” he said as he stalked around the bound and bleeding man. A service revolver was lying on the floor where he had discarded it earlier. He picked it up and chambered a round. He had always hated guns, but this one would aid in speeding things up a bit.

Placing the muzzle on the back of Maroney's head, he muttered just loud enough for the detective to hear, “I hope they have a good cleaning staff here.”

“Wait!” Maroney pleaded.

“Why?” Matt sneered. “You said she was already dead.”

“We need to know who she is working with, so he's supposed to question her first,” his voice rose to a high whining pitch. “She might still be alive if you hurry!”

“Where?”

Maroney told him the address. It wasn’t far but he was going to have to hurry if he was going to get there on time. Then there was the problem of what to do with the detective. He just couldn't leave him like this, nor could he let him go. For now, the trunk of his car would have to suffice. Matt would figure the rest out later when he had more time.

He quickly untied Maroney and pulled him up by his shirt. “Let's go!”

The detective didn't move fast, and Matt kept having to shove him to keep him going. Fortunately, with dislocated shoulders, the man wasn't putting up a fight. Matt propelled him out the door into the alley and towards his car.

He heard the other man almost too late to avoid the shot that blasted a chunk of brick off the side of the building too close to his head for comfort.

“Let him go and put your hands in the air!” Maroney's partner yelled from the mouth of the alley.

“Shoot this son of a bitch!” Maroney yelled and dodged to the side.

Matt grabbed him easily by the arm and yanked him back, making him scream in pain. If they could get close enough, Matt could use him as a distraction. Fortunately, Matt had planned to leave the gun in the car also, so he had it on him still.

Pulling Maroney close to him and pushing the unloaded gun into his ribs, he quietly told him, “if you want to live you better keep quiet and walk towards your partner.”

To Maroney's partner he called, “I will shoot your partner if you don't put your gun down and back away.”

“What makes you think I care?” the other detective yelled back.

Either by design or by accident, Maroney chose that moment to collapse, almost pulling Matt to the ground with him. He was only able to stay upright by releasing his grip on the man’s arm and jumping agilely over him as he fell. Maroney’s partner took that opportunity to fire off a shot at Matt while he was airborne and the impact of the bullet in his shoulder knocked him sideways into the building. Not giving him a chance to recover, the man charged down the alley, firing a second and a third time. Fortunately for Matt, the man could not run and aim accurately so both bullets struck the building harmlessly.

This gave Matt the short time he needed to react. Ignoring his bleeding shoulder, he grabbed a lid off a nearby trash can and flung it at the on coming man like a frisbee. It struck him as he fired again, deflecting his aim. He was close enough now that Matt could rush him, reaching him before he could bring the gun up for another shot. The pudgy cop was no match for Matt in close combat, even with an injured shoulder. A few well-placed punched and the man lay sprawled out on the ground at Matt’s feet.

Now he had two cops to deal with and time was still ticking by swiftly. Matt grabbed the partner and hoisted him over his shoulder to carry to his car. Dropping him into the trunk of the car, Matt then removed the handcuffs from his belt and used them to secure his hands behind his back before shutting the trunk. Going back to Maroney, he noted of the smell of blood, and it wasn’t all his. Squatting down by the still body of the detective, he felt for a pulse and couldn’t find one. Further investigation revealed a bullet hole in his chest. He had been shot by his own partner; probably the shot deflected by the trash can lid. With a sigh, he lifted the body and deposited it in the trunk of the other car.

This completed, Matt checked his own wound. The bullet had only grazed his shoulder and it had mostly quit bleeding; all it needed was a bandage and he would be good. Pulling out his cell phone, he called Foggy.

****  
Well, she had succeeded in pissing him off, but it didn’t look like he was going to make a mistake; he was too much of a professional. Like a snake shedding its skin, he had dropped his gentle demeanor, allowing the true monster underneath to emerge. Blood dripped down her body from more than just her bitten tongue now and she was sure more than one of her ribs were broken. The angrier he got, the more creative he became. Right now, he was making a slight adjustment to the butane torch that he had just used.

However, despite the escalation of both his temper and his methods, he was still very much in control of his actions. None of the cuts were located near large arteries that could bleed her out in just a few minutes. None of the punctures were made into critical organs. And he knew just when to stop the burning before she passed out from the pain. He was good at what he did. Too good. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take, and it worried her.

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of footsteps and his shoes came into her field of vision. The sound of the torch was disproportionately loud in her ears. No, wait, just her left ear. She started to lift her head and look when the smell of burnt hair assailed her nose, then the heat and pain on that side of her face. All thoughts fled as she screamed.


	26. Chapter 26

Arguing with Karen had proven fruitless for Foggy. He had put Matt on speaker so both of them could hear the update and when the call ended, she had announced that they should go also to back Matt up and to help with Nyah if necessary. Of course, he was completely against the idea. There was no way he was going to let Karen race off into a potentially dangerous situation, but she wouldn’t listen to his reasoning. Now, they were racing towards the address Matt had given them, not knowing what they were going to find once they got there.

****

Matt hurried down the pier keeping between shipping containers while he searched for Nyah. He had barely heard a muffled scream when he first arrived, but no other sounds since. As he went further out over the water, he was alert to temperature changes and smells that might indicate the presence of others. So far, all he could sense was garbage and rodents. They would choose to use the pier that housed the NYC department of sanitation.

Two-thirds of the way out, he caught the distinct smell of burning hair. Pausing to orient himself in the direction it was coming from, he caught the faint metallic sound of metal grating against metal coming from the same direction; a shipping container near the water’s edge on the far side of the pier from him. The need for caution warred with the urge to rush to Nyah’s aid and he settled for something in between the two.

Going as fast as he dared while staying as aware of his surroundings as possible, he approached the container. Close up, he realized that it was a refrigerated container, which explained why he was having such a hard time sensing anything within it. Pressed up against it, he could now smell blood and ozone as well, and heard a soft moan followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor. It was hard for him to make out through the thick metal and insulation, but he was sure there was only one other person in there with her. As far as he could tell, there was no one else on the pier with them either.

The problem with a shipping container was losing the element of surprise; there was no way for him to get into the container without alerting the person within. The best he could do was wait until the person was at the other end and occupied, and even that was a crap shoot made even worse by the difficulty of sensing heat signatures within.

Matt waited by the door of the container until he was reasonably sure the man (just a guess also) was on the far end kneeling on the floor by his victim, then he eased the lever on the door up until it was positioned to open the door. He could hear the scuffles of shoes on the floor and sounds that indicated someone was straining. With an explosive burst of motion, he wrenched the lever to open the door and charged into the dimly lit interior, immediately darting to the side to avoid any bullets that might be flying his way.

****  
Foggy and Karen arrived at the pier and sat in the car looking uncertainly at the dark pier; only about a third of the lights were working. Suddenly, their plan to help Matt didn’t seem as heroic as it had in back at Foggy’s apartment. Even Karen, who had been adamant about coming, looked less enthused.

“Are you guys sure this is where you want to be dropped off?” their Uber driver asked.

The question snapped both of them out of the spell. Karen exited the car while he paid the driver, then they watched the car disappear down the street leaving them in the run-down area.

“Ugh! What is that smell?” Karen wrinkled her nose.

Foggy pointed at the sign above the entrance to the pier: NYC Department of Sanitation.

“Fantastic,” she frowned. “Of course, that’s were we’re going, isn’t it?”

“Yep, just another glamorous night in Hell’s Kitchen.”

Without another word of complaint, Karen squared her shoulders and started forward.

“Wait,” Foggy stopped her. “Don’t we need a plan? How will we find them out there?”

She shrugged, “just listen for the fight, I suppose.”

“Makes perfect sense, I guess.”

****

The tableau that greeted Matt inside the container was certainly not what he expected. Instead of the unknown man bending over Nyah doing untold horrors to her, she was on top of him struggling for possession of a knife. Her clothes were torn, and she was barefoot; metal bands around her ankles attached by a length of chain to an upright metal rack. Her hands were free, though. The smell of burnt hair and flesh was strong, and he could tell that one side of her face was charred.

His abrupt entrance startled her, and she looked up from the man under her with her one good eye.

“Matt?” she breathed as if she didn’t believe he was there.

The distraction was all the man needed as he wrested the knife from her and plunged it into her side before shoving her off him.

“No!” Matt lunged forward that slammed into him, knocking the knife out of his hand. He stumbled backwards, tripping over the chains connecting Nyah to the rack and fell into the metal structure. Matt jumped after him and slammed his head into the rack. When the guy crumpled, Matt grabbed him to keep him from falling on the injured woman on the floor under them. Behind them, the door of the contain creaked as it opened wider and footsteps sounded. With the extra weight slowing him down, he was unable to spin quickly to face the new threat, so he shoved the man’s limp body to the side and let it drop to the floor before turning.

To his relief, Foggy stood in the entrance of the container with Karen behind him peering over his shoulder with wide eyes. Matt’s shoulder sagged and he turned to kneel by Nyah. She was struggling to breath, but her eye was open, watching him.

He looked back at the other two who were still frozen in shock, “Call 911,” he ordered, then turned back to her.

“Matt, watch out!” Foggy yelled.

A movement behind him was all the warning he had before the inside of the container echoed with two shots, stabbing painfully through his head. Momentary disorientation slowed his reactions as he spun towards the man he had dropped, just in time to hear the gun in his hand drop to the floor with a clatter followed by his body hitting the floor again. Confused, he turned back towards the end of the container. Foggy was staring at Karen with shock and disbelief. She was standing to the side, still holding the gun out in front of her, ready to shoot again, determination written on her face.

Matt turned back to Nyah, trusting Foggy to handle the situation. The numerous wounds on her had not been immediately life-threatening until that final stab. Not able to fully use his hearing yet, Matt felt gently along her ribs until he found the puncture between her second and third ribs. He could feel the sticky warmth of her blood seeping from the wound, but it wasn’t an alarming amount. Matt knew, however, that a puncture wound to the lung might not bleed a lot but was still very serious. Frustrated at his impaired hearing, he leaned down over her.

“How’s your breathing?”

“Not good,” her answer was almost a whisper and strained, but at least he could hear her. The ringing in his ears was starting to dissipate but he still couldn’t make out any lung sounds or her heartbeat.

Carefully smoothing the hair out of the unburnt side of her face, he asked, “can you make it until we get an ambulance here?”

Her answer was delayed by a wheezing cough that had her struggling to regain her breath. Matt could feel a fine spray of blood from it on his face.

“Matt?” she grasped his hand and gave it a weak squeeze.

“Shhh,” he said, “save your strength.”

“No, Matt…I’m not, not…,” another fit of coughing interrupted her. When it was over, it took her a moment to speak again.

“My plan…don’t waste this…don’t let another…. month go by,” her voice was getting weaker and it was taking more effort for her to get the words out.

“Gotta save…them…. don’t…” her voice tapered off.

He could hear her breathing now and it was bad; probably a collapsed lung from the pressure of blood pooling in her chest cavity.

“An ambulance is on the way; it will be here in about ten minutes.” Karen put a comforting hand on his shoulder and knelt beside him. “Just hold on a little longer, Nyah.”

But Nyah was beyond hearing now. Her breathing was shallow, her heart was slowing, and she was cool to the touch. If he could see, he knew her skin would be pale, her lips bluish. She wasn’t going to last ten more minutes.

He gathered her up into his arms and held her tight as her breathing gurgled to a stop and her heartbeat stuttered then stilled. Even though he knew this wasn’t the end for her, tears filled his eyes and rolled down his face. Karen wrapped her arm around his shoulder and wept with him.

In a matter of seconds, her body became insubstantial in his arms, disintegrating into a fine dust that disappeared before it could fall to the floor.

“Um, guys,” Foggy’s cleared his throat behind them. “I think we need to leave. Now.”

“He’s right Matt,” Karen sniffed and pushed herself up using his shoulder. “We have a dead guy and no victim.”

When he didn’t immediately respond, she shook his shoulder. “Matt!”

“Go,” he told her. “You two go. I’ll meet you back at my apartment.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, obviously not thrilled to leave him alone.

“Yeah, you don’t need to be seen with me like this. I’ll be okay,” he assured her.

“Let’s go,” Foggy stepped up behind Karen and took her arm. In the distance, Matt could hear the ambulance.

“The ambulance is coming. Go!” he told her more forcefully.

Matt waited until they left the container and he could hear their steps retreating up the pier, then he tipped the generator over to spill the gas onto the floor. Moving quickly, he moved over to the dead man, found the bullet holes and dug out the slugs with the knife and his fingers. The man had been a smoker, he knew from the smell of his clothes, and it didn’t take long to locate his cigarettes and lighter in his shirt pocket. Before leaving the container, Matt lit one of the cigarettes and tossed it back into the container onto the pool of gas on the floor. Once he was sure the gas was burning, he skirted the outside edge of the pier and ran down the waterfront to avoid detection by the ambulance driver.

****  
Before going to his apartment, Matt went back to the women’s center. Maroney might be dead, but his partner was still alive. Nyah had been tortured and Matt needed to know why. What information were they looking for?

She would be back in just a few weeks, on the next crescent moon, but his heart still ached like a piece had been torn from it. She had truly insinuated herself into it in the months that he had known her. Even now, when faced with the brutality of the life she was forced to live year after year with no hope of reprieve, he realized that she brought light and hope into his. He just wished he hadn’t been such a coward and had told her what she meant to him sooner. What a strange couple they made: he, an instrument created for a war he still didn’t understand, and she, an instrument of mercy for those marginalized by society.

Nearing the center, he slowed and approached with caution, sticking to the rooftops. Peering over the edge of the building across the road from the center, he wasn’t surprised to see that neither car was parked on the road anymore. He was surprised that the area wasn’t swarming with police and crime scene investigators. There was no tape to cordon off the area or any evidence that a crime had been committed there at all. Obviously, they were covering their tracks.

Not wasting anymore time, he rushed across the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen to reach Foggy and Karen at his apartment.


	27. Chapter 27

“Are we in danger?” Foggy asked.

“I don't know. I don't think so, but I can't say for sure. His partner may not have even known why Maroney was at the women's center.” Matt told them while he paced the floor.

“If they are cleaning up loose ends and covering their tracks, I don't like relying on maybes.”

“But we haven't continued to press the missing person's case,” Karen put in. “We backed off, so they might not think we're a threat now.”

“More maybes,” Foggy said with an exasperated huff.

“Well, panicking isn't going to do us any good. So, what's the plan?” Karen reached out to take his hand.

“I think we need to stick together for a while. That safety in numbers thing,” Foggy gave her a reassuring smile.

“No, not about that. About getting these bastards. Do we have a plan that's better than Nyah's?”

That was the problem, Matt thought. Her last words were to urge him to carry out that plan and they didn't have a better plan. But they still had time to come up with one, if they could stay out of harm's way.

“I think we should prepare to go through with her plan, just in case.”

Both Foggy and Karen looked at him in shock. He had been adamantly opposed to the idea from the beginning, now he was on the verge of going with it.

“But if we come up with something better, then we change course. That way, we have something in place if all else fails,” he conceded.

Nyah's plan was as simple as it was risky. Report her missing to the police. Break into the DA's home and hide Wen Lei's ashes in the basement that way, when she resurrected it would be there. Hide her cell phone and the computer from the warehouse in another part of the house, so that the phone can be traced there, and the computer becomes incriminating evidence. Then get the FBI involved and give them all the evidence they have gathered so far and hope they bit. Simple.

“It would be great if we could get a recording of a meeting between the DA and Mrs. Williams or the other detective,” Karen mused. “That would add to our body of evidence.”

Foggy and Matt looked at her in surprise.

“I might be able to make that happen,” Matt mused, “with the right equipment.”

Karen grinned, “I will get on that first thing in the morning.”

“And I will figure out how to get into Montgomery's house undetected. This plan is starting to sound better all the time,” he smiled. “Just don't tell Nyah I said that!”

They laughed at the small joke, then settled in to work out the details of the plan, all thoughts of a better idea forgotten.

****

Monday morning, Karen started the ball rolling on their plan, by going to the police station to report Nyah missing. The entire station was in a state of upheaval and she was forced to wait for nearly two hours before being escorted back to make the report. Her time spent waiting wasn’t wasted, though. Through snippets of conversations she picked up, she was able to piece together that Maroney’s house had burnt to the ground from a gas leak and Maroney’s body had been found in his bed inside, apparently asphyxiated in his sleep from the fumes.

The officer taking her statement didn’t seem overly concerned about the disappearance of her friend and assured her that Nyah would probably be home in a couple of days with a hangover and a few hickeys to show for her time. He condescendingly told her that she “shouldn’t worry her pretty head” about it.

“Are there any cops here that aren’t complete assholes?” she asked him in return.

“Excuse me?” he sputtered, his face turning red.

“Never mind,” she said, picking up her purse. “You will file the report, right?”

“Of course, Miss Page,” he said in a chilly voice, all his earlier civility gone. “We will contact you if we have any further questions.”

Karen didn’t bother to thank him before she made her way out of the station. Her meeting went much like they had expected. Mission accomplished.

Back at the office, she logged onto her computer and started looking for long-distance recording and surveillance devices.

****  
That afternoon Matt and Foggy cased the DA’s Upper Westside home. Foggy discreetly took several pictures with his camera from the street as he walked by with Matt. Matt used their walk-by to get a feel for the neighborhood and check for surveillance cameras. This neighborhood had traffic cameras at every light and there were private cameras up and down the alley behind the home.

“This is not going to be easy,” he observed as they made their way back to Hell’s Kitchen.

“If it was, everybody would be putting on spandex and running along the rooftops,” Foggy pointed out.

Matt chuckled, “you have a point.”

“It does have a basement, at least.”

“That’s helpful. Let’s see if Karen can find an itinerary for him. If he’s not home, it will be easier for me to get in and out without being seen.”

****  
Later that night, Matt returned to the house as Daredevil. Keeping to the roofs proved to be challenging as he left his usual neighborhood, but by using alleys and fire escapes, he was able to make his way to the DA’s home undetected by nothing more than pigeons and rats.

Skirting the perimeter of the brownstone, he was able to locate cameras and verify that it did have a basement and a crawl space in the back. All the windows and doors were wired with alarms, including the one opening to the rooftop patio. There was a garden in the back with several good-sized trees and a dumpster in the alley. The trees could provide cover, but he would still have to disable at least two cameras to make an approach to the back of the building, which was still a better option than the street side or the roof.

He found a position behind the building on another across the alley and watched the place for several hours. Research on the DA had revealed that he was separated from his wife of 22 years and that their children were all grown and living on their own. The soon-to-be ex-wife had moved back to the west coast. No sources on the internet had mentioned a potential girlfriend. From what Matt saw that evening, Silas Montgomery lived alone, which would make his task easier.

Just before dawn, Daredevil left his roost and headed back to his apartment to get a few hours of sleep before Matt Murdock’s workday started.

*****

Matt told Karen and Foggy what he had found out during lunch.

“I’m going to go in through the crawl space. I think that’s the safest place to hide the ashes and to ensure no one’s around when she comes back.”

“Yeah, it would suck if she reappeared in front of the cleaning staff,” Karen said with a smile.

“Shit,” Matt said, shaking his head, “I didn’t think about the cleaning staff. I wonder how often they go down into the basement. We don’t need for them to find the computer. It won’t be as easy to hide as her cell phone.”

“Ok, we have three weeks or so,” Karen pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of her purse. “What if I pick up two remote cameras and you place them to monitor the house this week. That way, you will know for sure who is coming and going on a regular basis, and we can find out the cleaning schedule and who does it.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Foggy nodded looking at Matt.

“Yeah, that will work,” he agreed.

Karen made a note on the paper.

“What else do you have, Karen?” Foggy asked.

She held up the paper. “I have a good long-range camera with audio recording capability that should do the trick for catching conversations. But…,” she bit her lip and looked down.

“What?” Matt asked her.

“If you are using it, how will you know you are actually getting the video? I mean, it’s not like you can see what you are recording.”

Matt paused to consider her concern. “You’re right, but I don’t see any way around it. It’s not like you or Foggy can come with me while I’m following Williams, unless one of you have developed a liking for jumping from rooftop to rooftop.”

Both Foggy and Karen emphatically shook their heads, making him grin.

“And I don’t think I will have time to call one of you before I need to record, either. So, I will just have to take my chances.”

“How about I get one with a wide-angle lens? That will give you a better shot, right?” 

“Just as long as you set it up before hand, I guess that will have to work.”

“Ok. So Foggy, tell him your news,” she prompted.

Matt turned to his friend, “what news?”

“Remember Nate Anderson?” Foggy asked him.

“The guy we studied advanced environmental law finals with?”

“Yeah. Well, his husband is in the FBI’s New York field office. He’s not a field agent but is in the cyber crimes division.”

“That’s good. We do have evidence of them selling these women over the internet.”

“If not, maybe he can put us in touch with someone for human trafficking.”

“Ok, get in touch with him and see if you can get something set up. We can give them what we have on the missing women and see how they react.”

“Already done,” Foggy smiled, leaning back with his hands behind his head. “We have a meeting the day after tomorrow with Agent Boyd.”

Shortly afterwards, the two men went back to their office, while Karen went in search of the list of electronic devices to help with their plan.

****

Matt had no trouble setting up the two camera’s that Karen bought for watching the DA’s home and continued to refine his plan to get into the house based on the data gathered from them. Karen reported that the only people that came and went with any regularity at the house, besides the Montgomery, was a two-person cleaning staff, on Mondays and Thursdays for three hours, and a cook that came in at 10:00 every weekday. The first day of the crescent moon was on a Tuesday, so the cleaning staff shouldn’t be a problem if Matt planted the stuff on Monday night. It would cut it close, though, and not allow for any backup plan.

The rest of the week, Matt spent trailing Moroney’s partner. He discovered the man’s name was Scott Farley and that he lived on the south end of Hell’s Kitchen near the docks where Nyah had been killed.

Farley met with several men, some obvious thugs, throughout the week, but only one of the meetings even hinted at the human trafficking ring. This meeting was with a tall, slightly built young man, who constantly adjusted his tie and the sleeves of this jacket during the conversation.

“We need to know when we’re going to start up again,” Farley told him. “Some of our regulars are getting impatient.”

“Tell them to take their business elsewhere if they want, but they’ll never find the quality we can provide,” the younger man snapped.

“Look, I know the boss wants us to lay low for now, but if I could just give them an estimate?” Farley spread his hands. “It would go a long way and get them to quiet down.”

“Tell them just a couple of months to let this blow over.”

Farley smiled and clapped the guy on the back, causing him to stumble forward a half step. “There you go, Jimmy! That wasn’t so hard, was it? I can work with that.”

“It’s Jim,” he said with a frown, straightening his jacket. “He wants to know how the search for Maroney’s killer is going.”

“There’s still a lot of energy down at the precinct, but nothing to show for it.”

“So, no one’s suspicious?”

“Nope, they don’t have a clue. We’re in the clear.”

“Good. Now talk to your clients and tell them to be patient and we’ll be back up and running before Christmas.”

“Got it, Jimmy.”

“It’s Jim,” he corrected again, but Farley was already walking back to his car and not listening.

Matt recorded all of the conversation. While there wasn’t anything specific to tie the DA to the ring, it did suggest that they were behind Maroney’s death and the staged fire. It was just one more scrap of information. Still it would be best if he could get the DA himself.


	28. Chapter 28

Thursday rolled around and they were no closer to getting any solid proof that the DA was involved. Matt and Foggy were scheduled to meet up with Agent Boyd at the field office in Federal Plaza on the south side of the island at 2:00 in the afternoon.

After going through the metal detector and being thoroughly searched, they were given visitor badges and escorted to the agent’s cubical. Agent Michael Boyd was about as average as a person could get, average height, average build, his suit not too cheap or too expensive, his hair not too long or too short. His face was open and honest and his handshake firm.

“Nate had a lot of good things to say about you two,” he smiled at them before motioning them to take a seat in the cramped space. “Sorry about the accommodations, but not everyone can have an office like they show on TV.”

“This is fine, Agent Boyd,” Matt said, allowing Foggy to guide him to a chair.

“Call me Mike,” he told them, taking his seat on the other side of a cluttered desk.

Once they were all seated, he turned his warm brown eyes to Foggy. “What can I do for you? Nate didn’t have a lot of details but said something about human trafficking.”

Foggy quickly told him about Mrs. Vitalidi and her daughter, the lack of cooperation they were getting from the police, and the threats made to Nyah by detective Maroney. When he was through, Boyd leaned back in his chair with a slight frown.

“I don’t see the link between the disappearance of one woman and trafficking.”

Matt leaned forward, “we started doing some digging and discovered several other missing women in Hell’s Kitchen that were young and lived high risk lifestyles.”

“And,” Foggy interjected, pulling a sheaf of papers from his briefcase and putting them on the desk in front of the agent, “almost all of the women were seen by the director of the Women’s Center in Hell’s Kitchen.”

Boyd leaned forward and leafed through the files that Nyah had stolen from the center before she was fired, his frown growing as he did so.

“This is compelling, but I still don’t see the link. Williams might be a serial killer.” He closed the file. “But this does warrant a closer look, I agree.”

“Do you know that warehouse found last week with the cages set up?” Matt asked.

“No,” he shook his head and looked confused.

“Exactly!” Foggy said throwing his hands in the air. “How could you not know about that?”

“Look,” Matt lowered his voice, “we followed a lead to that warehouse and another one where people had obviously been kept locked up. When we got to that warehouse, there were five women locked up in cages. They said they had been auctioned off to people through the internet,” Boyd sat up when he heard that. “We set them free and then called 911 and got the hell out of there. We kept waiting to hear something about it, but there was NOTHING. We are telling you the police are in on this.”

“When was this?”

“Just last week.”

“Where are these women now?” the agent asked.

“We can put you into contact with one of them, she said she would testify, as would most of the others,” Matt assured him.

“Why did you wait so long to come forward?”

“We didn’t know who to talk to. We just knew we couldn’t trust the police, not after what happened to our friend. Foggy just remembered Nate on Monday.”

Agent Boyd leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll need to talk to this woman and the others to verify your story, but I still don’t see any hard evidence that points towards the police being involved.”

Foggy’s shoulders slumped at his statement and Matt started to rise from his chair to leave, but the agent made a calming motion with his hands and Foggy reached up and tugged Matt back down into his chair.

“I’m not saying they aren’t involved. What I am saying is that we need to be very careful how we proceed. I think I need to get Jim Everett from Trafficking involved. He might have some intel on the ring you are looking at.”

Matt perked up at the name. There were a lot of people named Jim, but it was too big of a coincidence for him to ignore. “Jim? Do you know him?”

“Not well, but I’ve seen him around and heard a lot about him. Why?”

“Show him the recording,” Matt told Foggy. They hadn’t planned on using the recording yet, but they couldn’t take any chances. Every cue that Matt had gotten from Agent Boyd had bespoke his integrity and honesty. He had given no indication of nervousness that would indicate he was anything other than what he professed to be; an honest agent.

Foggy fumbled around in his case again and pulled out his cell phone. Pulling up the recording, he handed his phone to the agent. As the clip progressed, his face flushed, and he ground his teeth. 

Handing the phone back to Foggy, he said, “send that to me, please.” It wasn’t really a request, but Foggy gladly complied. 

“That was Everett, I take it?” Matt asked but he already knew the answer.

He breathed out through his mouth and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That is going to make this difficult, but I can work around it.”

“Now do you see what we have been up against?” Matt asked him angrily. “Are all the law enforcement officials in this damn city crooked? Now do you see why Hell’s Kitchen embraces their vigilante?”

Foggy looked at him in alarm, but Boyd missed the look, instead he was looking down at his desk, his shoulders drawn forward.

“I wonder that myself at times,” he muttered. Then he sighed. “Give me a few days on this, guy. Then I’ll contact you. We’ll probably have to meet again because I know I’m going to have a lot of questions once I get my head around all this. You guys have don’t a great job so far, but don’t do anything else to put yourselves in danger, okay. Keep a low profile and let us handle it from here.” 

He stood and shook their hands and gave them a few more assurances, then had them escorted back downstairs.

Out on the street, Matt turned to his friend, “Well, at least one person believes us.”

“I take it we are going to ignore his advice about staying out of danger?”

“I am. I don’t know about you,” Matt quipped.

****

Another week passed without getting any additional information. Matt’s nightly forays came up empty. It seemed like their villains were indeed keeping their heads down, waiting for everything to blow over. Agent Boyd hadn’t contacted them either and they were beginning to worry that he was in on it despite Matt’s instincts to the contrary.

To make matters worse, word had gotten out that Matt and Foggy were helping with missing persons cases that the police were ignoring. Two more distraught mothers had shown up at the office with stories of their missing daughters. All three friends were on edge and starting to take their frustrations out on each other. Thursday morning, a week after their meeting with the FBI agent, Matt and Foggy had a minor disagreement about a case concerning rent control that had ended with Matt throwing a coffee mug across the room and storming out. Shortly after his exit, Foggy had also left to “get some air”, leaving Karen alone in the office.

Just before noon, the door opened and a man in his late forties wearing a cheap suit walked into the office. Karen checked the calendar, but she knew there were no appointments scheduled for the rest of the day.

“May I help you?” she smiled, looking up as he stopped in front of her desk.

He smiled back, more of a show of teeth than a real smile. “I’m looking for Murdock and Nelson.”

“You’re in the right place, but they aren’t available right now. Can I schedule an appointment for you?”

“Not available, eh?” he asked with another toothy smile as he walked over to the door to Matt’s office.

“Excuse me, but you can’t…,” Karen started to say, standing up.

The man didn’t even look at her, he just pointed and said, “shut the fuck up and sit your ass down!”

Karen just gaped at his audacity as he opened the door and peered into Matt’s office.

Determining that the office was empty, he crossed the room to the other door and opened it also. After looking around, he stepped back into the room where Karen was still standing by her desk.

“I told you to sit you ass down!” he snapped.

Karen picked up her cell phone and thumbed in her password. “I’m going to call the police if you don’t leave right now!”

“Go ahead, Darling,” he told her as he opened the jacket to his suit to show her his badge, “but I don’t think that’s going to help you. Now, SIT DOWN!”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Karen sat down and set her phone on the desk. Before letting go of it, she let her finger tap one of the icons on the home page, then closed the screen.

The man went back to the main door and turned the lock before turning his attention back to her.

“Let me introduce myself, I am Detective Farley. Maroney was my partner.”

When Karen’s eyes widened at his name, he nodded and smiled again, “I see you know who I am. Good. That will make this easier.” He walked around her desk and sat on the edge, close enough for her to smell the cheap scotch he drank and the cigarettes he smoked. 

He leaned down to look her in the eye, his stale breath making her want to hold hers, “Do you want to tell me what you and your lawyer friends are doing? Are you still snooping around where you have no business?”

“We haven’t done anything,” she protested. “After Maroney’s talk with Nyah, we backed off.”

“You’re lying,” he growled, crowding her and forcing her to lean away from him. “You were just at the police station last week.”

“Yes, I was. I filed a missing person’s report on Nyay. I had to,” she hurriedly explained, thinking quickly. “If she shows up dead or something, we would look like suspects for not reporting her missing. We represent the law, so we have to abide by it.”

Farley blew out a foul breath in her face then leaned back. “Fair enough,” he allowed, standing up.

He went over to the file cabinets and pulled open the top drawer. When Karen started to stand back up, he snarled at her to stay sitting. He thumbed through the files, pulling several out and paging through them before dropping them on the floor. When he finished with that drawer, he did the same with the other three, until there was a fair stack of papers on the floor of the office.

Turning back to her, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “This is how it’s going to work, Blondie. None of you are going to go anywhere near the police station.”

“But they’re lawyers! They have clients!” Karen protested.

“I don’t give a fuck!” he replied. “If we see any of you down there, I will be back and this time I won’t come alone. Do you understand?”

At Karen’s nod, he looked down at the papers at his feet, “I hope you have backups on the computer.”

Farley dropped his lit cigarette onto the pile of papers and stood there until a flame appeared. Once the pile was burning, he smiled at Karen’s horrified expression.

“I’ll keep in touch.”

After he left the office, Karen jumped up and grabbed the fire extinguisher. By that time the fire alarm had went off and the occupants of the building were beginning to evacuate.


	29. Chapter 29

Foggy just looked at the soggy mess on the floor with disbelief while Matt raged.

“This has gone too far!” he snarled, clenching his fists with impotent anger.

Karen was slumped in her chair with her head in her hands, elbows propped up on the desk. “Matt, you need to calm down,” she said with a weary voice.

“No! I will not calm down! First, they go after Nyah, now they come into our office and threaten you and try to burn the place down with you in it!” His voice continued to rise as he spoke until he was yelling.

“I don’t think he was actually trying to burn the place down, Matt,” Foggy said.

Matt spun towards him, ready to take out his anger on the closest person, but Karen was suddenly in front of him.

“Matt, he’s not the enemy,” she said soothingly. “Neither am I.”

He threw his arms up in the air and turned, taking several steps away and taking a deep breath to try to calm down.

“We have company,” he announced just before a knock came at their door.

Agent Boyd opened the door and took in the mess and the state of the three friends. “You guys have had an exciting day,” he said, entering the room and closing the door behind him. “I heard the lame story you told the fire department. Why don’t you tell me what really happened?”

“I can do better than that,” Karen said walking to her desk and grabbing her cell phone. She tapped a button and came over to the agent and handed it to him.

He listened attentively while the recording of her encounter with Farley played. When it was done, he held up the phone.

“Quick thinking, Miss Page. Send this to me.”

Matt couldn’t wait any longer, “what took you so long to get back to us? You said a few days. It’s been over a week!”

Boyd looked down at the floor, “well, it’s proven harder than I thought to figure out who I can trust at the office.”

“What’s that mean?” Karen asked.

“It means that I have never had to sneak around and figure out who I can and cannot trust, that’s all,” Boyd said with exasperation.

“You’re lucky,” Karen said, “at least you have someone you can trust.”

“You guys can trust me.”

“Can we?” Matt asked. “We go to you and you don’t call us back, then we get a visit from Farley. It’s a little suspicious. How did you even know about the fire?”

“I didn’t. I was on my way here to talk to you. I figured it was safer than having you come back to the office and risk running into Everett.”

Matt wasn’t completely convinced, but let it go. “So, what now?”

“I brought my boss in on the case and he agrees that there is definitely something going on. I got in touch with Miss Lopez and I’m going to see her when I’m done here. I would like for one of you guys to come with me, to put her at ease. She seemed really nervous on the phone.”

Matt had already contacted her to let her know the agent would be in touch and she hadn’t been overly happy about the prospect, despite her earlier assurances, so he agreed to go with Boyd.

Before they left, Boyd had one more concern. “Do you guys need protection? I can get you into protective custody based on this.”

Foggy started to agree, but Matt shook his head. “If we disappear, it’s going to look suspicious. They might close down even more, and we’ll miss our chance to catch them and save these women.”

“I think Karen needs to go,” Foggy told them.

“I agree,” Matt said.

“Ok, I will arrange it.”

“No! Wait a minute!” Karen sputtered. “I’m not going anywhere! I’m not scared of these guys.”

Matt and Foggy both gave her disbelieving looks.

“Ok, maybe I am a little scared,” she allowed. “But I’m not going to hide. You guys need me! If we stay away from the police station and keep our heads down for the next couple of weeks, we should be ok.”

Boyd looked confused, “why the next two weeks?”

“I mean,” she quickly corrected, “until this is over. Hopefully soon.”

Before Boyd and Matt left, they compromised by letting him set up surveillance from the street on their office. It made Karen feel better, but Matt and Foggy still felt that Karen was in danger. He desperately wanted to pay Farley a visit as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen but knew that wasn’t an option. It would be like waving a red flag and letting Farley know that they were working with the Devil. He would have to figure something else out.

****  
That night, Matt changed strategies. While following Farley had led them to agent Everett and he had collected enough recordings of the crooked cop’s dealings with street thugs, taking bribes and making deals, to convict him of a variety petty crimes, none of it was getting them any closer to tying the DA to the ring. Instead of tailing Farley through the neighborhood, he decided to follow the director of the Women’s Clinic, Mrs. Williams. Maybe she would prove more productive to their case. They needed a break in the case, they only had a week until the new moon.

Surprisingly, she did not go from the Women’s Center to her apartment. Instead, she drove east to the other side of Manhattan and parked outside of a hotel. From his place hiding in the bushes outside, Matt listened as she stopped at the desk and checked into room 330 under the name of Gwen Anderson.

The hotel was one of the older ones, not quite run down, but not one of the shiny modern ones, so it still had old fashion fire escapes on the alley side of the building. He was able to get into the building via a window on the third floor into an empty room. The door had a direct view of the door to room 330. Other than that, Matt was at a loss. The room that Williams was in faced the street, so hanging outside the window wasn’t an option.

Looking around the room, he noticed the air duct in the ceiling. He had never been reduced to creeping through duct work, but there was a first time for everything. Pulling the desk chair under the vent, he pried the grill loose and pushed it up into the duct, out of the way. Then he jumped to grab the lip and pull himself up. As his feet were dangling down into the room, he heard the distinctive tones and click of the card keypad unlocking the door to the room. Hurriedly, he pulled the rest of his body up into the hole as a man and woman walked into the room, turning on the lights.

He carefully repositioned the grill over the hole so that it appeared to be covered to the casual observer and began to creep through the duct towards room 330. One thing he immediately noticed that the movies and TV neglected to mention, is how noisy shoes are on the metal of the ducts. He had to be extra careful when he moved his feet so that the soles of his boots didn’t squeak loudly. They also didn’t mention how thin the metal is, so it wanted to give and bend with him as he moved through it. He had to distribute his weight just right to keep it from flexing and making noise. Finally, it was slow going, especially carrying the video recorder. Room 330 was just four rooms down the hall from the one he entered, but it took him a good ten minutes to inch his way there quietly.

When he finally arrived at the room, Williams was in the shower. Through the grate, Matt had a good vantage point from the middle of the room, but he couldn’t tell if the grating was open enough to allow a good view for the camera. If not, the audio will have to do. 

If there was going to be anything to record, he reminded himself. She could just be having a fling with a married man. He settled in to wait.

After several minutes, Williams came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and using another to dry her hair. A quiet knock came at the door and she moved to answer it. Matt should have been shocked that the DA was on the other side, but somehow wasn’t. He started recording.

“Did anyone see you?” Williams asked as he shut the door behind him and followed her into the room.

“Of course not. I’ve got this down to an art.” He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply, “damn, you smell good.”

She turned in his arms, let the towel drop, “I missed you.”

Matt was uncomfortable being a voyeur to their tryst, but he had to stay in case they said anything that could be used to link Montgomery to the trafficking ring.

Afterwards, lying in bed together their talk did turn to business.

“I think you need to leave town for a while,” Montgomery told her.

“Why, they don’t have anything on us. Even if they did, your people can handle it. What’s the use of having half the police force on your payroll if you can’t buy security?” she pouted.

“Don’t pout. It’s not a good look on you,” he said. “Everett says he thinks someone is snooping around at the field office, but he doesn’t have any solid yet.”

“Everett is a nervous idiot. He’s always jumping at shadows.”

“I think we need to back off and you should find some business out of town for the next couple of months.”

“Two months,” she sounded alarmed. “What would you do without me? Or are you thinking about replacing me?” Her voice rose, “because if you are, you better be warned that I’ll…,”

“That you’ll what?” he cut her off, sitting up and looking down at her. “You aren’t stupid enough to threaten me are you, Cynthia?”

She immediately changed her tone, “no, baby, I would never threaten you. I love you, Silas. I just don’t understand why your guys can’t just take care of these troublemakers.”

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his clothes. “This isn’t the movies, where I can do whatever the hell I want. I still have to be careful. Shit, I thought you were smart enough to know that. My guys have them scared, so they should back off. We just need to wait and see what Everett finds in the field office. If there’s nothing, then we can get back to business quickly.”

“We need to. There are so many potential girls coming through the center our clients are missing out on. There was a gorgeous blonde that was 16 through the other day that your friend upstate would love to get his hands on!”

He turned a gave her a kiss. “There will be plenty more. Hell’s Kitchen is a catchall for homeless and runaway girls. Just be patient.” He sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for his clothes.

“Are you leaving so soon?” Williams cooed. “It’s still early.”

“And I have ton of paperwork waiting for me to finish. I just wanted to finish with you first,” he smiled as he stood to get dressed.

“I still don’t think I need to leave,” she tried again.

He sighed, giving in, “okay, stay. But don’t do anything until I give the word to start back up. Understand?”

“I understand, Baby,” she said, standing to help him with his tie.

Matt cautiously crept backwards towards the hall, trying not to make any noise. When the door opened to the room, Montgomery looked out to make sure the hall was clear, then stepped out and shut the door behind him. Halfway down the hall, he pulled out his cell phone and keyed in a number.

Before he opened the door to go down the stairs, instead of taking the elevator, Matt heard him say, “Farley, we have a problem I need you to take care of.” Then the door shut behind him and muffled the rest of the conversation.

Matt had to wait nearly two hours in the tight confines of the hotel’s ductwork before he found a way to exit the hotel without being seen.


	30. Chapter 30

Foggy looked at Matt with disbelief and Karen giggled from her desk.

“Well, that’s unexpectedly disgusting,” he said.

“You should have been there,” Matt retorted. “For once in my life, I was glad I was blind. Too bad I’m not deaf as well.”

“It’s like a bad spy movie,” Karen giggled again.

“I’m glad you find it amusing. Someone has to watch the footage to make sure I got everything.”

“Eww,” she stopped giggling and flinched as Matt handing her the camera.

“Have fun,” he grinned.

****

The night before the crescent moon it was time for Matt to sneak into Montgomery’s home and hide the computer, Nyah’s phone and Wen’s ashes. Matt had thoroughly reconnoitered the building and surrounding area and the cameras had provided them with the schedules of the staff, so he was about as prepared as he was going to get for the risky endeavor.

Foggy and Karen would go with him to help carry the items and to be two more sets of eyes keeping watch. Karen would be positioned down the street, pretending to wait for a bus. The bus stop was in the middle of the divided street and had enough trees between it and the house to provide her with some cover while allowing her to see the front of the house and traffic passing by it. Foggy would be in the alley behind the home, out of site between two garbage dumpsters. From that vantage point, he could watch for anyone entering the building from the back. All three had ear mics that would allow them to warn Matt if anyone entered the building while he was inside.

On previous visits, Matt had loosened the grating covering the opening to the crawl space on the side of the building. The crawl space led to a small storage room in the basement that was piled high with boxes and shelves. From the layers of dust in the room, nobody had been in there for several months. That is where he planned to hide the items. It would be the safest place for Nyah to reincarnate and hide until the FBI arrived to rescue her.

Together the three made their way to Montgomery’s home. They were unusually quiet, each deep in his or her thought. As they reached the block the house was on, Foggy broke the silence.

“What if she’s discovered before the FBI gets there?”

Matt stopped and shook his head, “we’ve been over this. The room is unused, she’ll be safe.”

Foggy wasn’t convinced, “what if she wakes up screaming like she did last time? Someone will hear and investigate.”

This time Karen answered, “Foggy, she told us it depends on how she died. Her death this time wasn’t as traumatic as the other was. She will be fine.”

“Tell me again why we just didn’t hand over everything we have to Boyd and let him take it from there? Why are we putting ourselves and Nyah in danger in the first place?”

Matt huffed with exasperation, “Foggy,” he started.

Foggy held up his hand to stop his friend, “I know. We’ve been over that too.”

“Then why are you asking?”

“Because he’s nervous,” Karen answered for him and took his free hand with hers. “So am I.”

The tension left Matt’s body. “Look, I know this isn’t your thing. Either of you,” he indicated them with a sweep of his hand, “you don’t have to do this. I can do it by myself and meet you guys back at my apartment if you want.”

Both Karen and Foggy were shaking their heads before he finished. 

“No,” Foggy said. “Nyah is our friend too. We need to do this.”

Karen smiled at him and squeezed his hand, “you just want to play the hero for once?”

Foggy ducked his head and refused to meet her eyes, “no, but it’s about time we stopped expecting Matt to do all the heavy lifting for us. He’s only one person.”

Matt chuckled, “good. Now how about we get going so we can get this over with while it’s still dark?”

Both Karen and Foggy joined him in a quiet laugh as they continued down the street to their destination.

Near the house, Karen crossed the street to continue to the bus stop. Matt and Foggy turned into the alley a block away to approach the building from the back. Foggy handed Matt the backpack with the computer, ashes and phone, then ducked between the two dumpsters. Matt crept into the shadows of the narrow alley beside the building.

At the grate, he whispered, “com check.”

“I can hear you,” Foggy answered.

“I got you,” came Karen’s soft reply.

“I can hear you guys,” he acknowledged. “I’m going in. Let me know if you see anything or anyone.”

“Okay,” they both replied.

He crouched and pulled the grate away from the opening in the bricks, shoved in the backpack, then crawled in behind it, pulling the grate back over the opening when he was inside. The crawl space was cramped and filled with water and gas pipes, electric lines, and other cables. It was damp, humid and smelled like a combination of mold, sewage, and animal feces to his sensitive nose. He could hear the scraping and occasional squeaks of rodents and insects all around him as he got his bearings and began to move deeper into the space, dragging the backpack as he went. Spiderwebs brushed his face, the builders scurrying out of his way, some dropping onto his head and back. He could feel them through the tough material of his suit and was glad for its protection. 

In the middle of the back wall he found the opening to the crawlspace from the basement of the building. It was just a hinged sheet of plywood that swung open into the room beyond. Matt listened carefully for any noise coming from the other side. Other than the quiet noise around him in the crawlspace, he heard nothing. His other senses gave him the general layout of the room. As before, it was filled with boxes and shelves. One stack of boxes was close to the wall that held the opening. 

Cautiously, he pushed the plywood door open. It swung into the room without making any noise and stopped when it met the stack of boxes. The opening was narrow, but more than enough for Matt to squeeze through with the backpack in tow. He landed noiselessly and paused to scan for movement again. Nobody was near.

“I’m in,” he said softly. Karen and Foggy’s equally soft replies came back.

Surveying the small room, he realized it was so cluttered that there was not enough room for Nyah to resurrect lying on the floor. He would have to move some boxes to make more room. He informed his friends of his intentions then started moving boxes as carefully as possible.

He had almost cleared enough space when Foggy’s whisper startled him.

“There’s a car pulling up in the alley!”

“Who?” he whispered back.

“I can’t see, but there’s two of them in it and they are getting out.” 

A moment later, “they’re getting something heavy out of the trunk.” Then, “They’re going into the house.”

“I see lights from the second floor!” Karen hissed.

On cue, he heard a door open on the floor above him and heavy treads on the floor and another set coming down the stairs.

“I’m almost done,” he told them.

He quickly set the last box down and checked the space he had made. It was barely big enough for a person to lay down in, but Nyah was small, so it should work. Pulling the computer out of the backpack, he hid it back against the wall behind a stack of boxes.

Above him came muffled voices.

“Why the hell did you bring her here?” an angry male voice demanded. He recognized it as Montgomery.

“The place down at the pier isn’t safe anymore,” another male voice whined.

“Well, you can’t leave her here!” Montgomery snapped.

A calmer voice attempted to smooth over things, “Boss, we just need to leave her here for a couple of days until we can set up a safe disposal.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m the Goddamn DA! I can’t have her in my house! Are you stupid?” Montgomery was yelling by the time he got to the last.

“Do you really want us to just dump this anywhere and risk her being found?” the third man said, unruffled by Montgomery’s anger.

“Why didn’t you just take her to the same place you dumped Maroney’s body?”

Matt froze at that.

“That’s the plan, but Diego is out of town and his people won’t deal with us. When Diego gets back, we will move her. Right now, we just need a place to store her and both the warehouses are out of the question.”

Matt listened to the DA’s agitated pacing as he hid the cell phone and ashes between stacks of boxes near the space he had made.

“Ok,” Montgomery conceded. “But as soon as that wanna be rapper gets back in town, I want her gone! And she better not be found!”

“Sure, Boss,” came the soothing voice. “We’ll take care of her, don’t worry.”

“I’m going back to bed. Let yourselves out when you’re done.”

Matt listened as the DA went back upstairs and slammed his bedroom door, then he made his way back to the opening to the crawlspace.

“Ok, you heard him. Let’s stash this thing and get the hell out of here before he changes his mind. I don’t know what the hell Everett was thinking telling us to bring it here.”

Matt stopped in the process of climbing through the opening when he heard Everett’s name.

“You would think someone in the FBI would be able to find a place to dump this. But, no! He had to pawn it off on us. Now the boss thinks we’re idiots.” The whiney one complained.

“Shut up,” snapped the third guy. “We’re getting paid well to do this. Who cares if he thinks we’re idiots? Come on!”

There were a couple of grunts then the sound of something heavy being drug across the floor, but no more conversation. When the door to the stairs leading down into the basement opened, he decided it was time to get the hell out before he was discovered. He was sure that, even if they came into the room, they wouldn’t find the computer. And if they did, it was a storage room after all.

Pulling the plywood closed behind him, he made his way back through the crawlspace and to the grate.

“Is it clear?” he asked his friends.

“If you hurry,” Foggy said.

“Clear up front,” Karen said. “The lights on the second floor are off now. There’s only a light in the back of the house on the first floor.”

“Okay,” Matt told them. “Let’s go.”

Back at Matt’s apartment, they set the wheels in motion for the next phase of the plan. Foggy called Agent Boyd and left a message for him to contact them at the office the next day. Then Matt told them about the conversation he had overheard.

“What do you think they were hiding?” Foggy wondered.

Karen rolled her eyes, “duh! Probably a body!”

“What!” Foggy’s voice went up an octave and he jumped up from his chair. “They put a body in the basement?”

“Probably,” both Matt and Karen replied simultaneously.

“But,” he sputtered, “Nyah is going to resurrect down there tomorrow night!”

“Calm down,” Matt told him. “One of two things is going to happen. Either they come back and get the body before she resurrects, or they don’t. If they don’t, it’s one more nail in the coffin for Montgomery.”

“What if they come to get it before we get her out?”

“The odds of that are slim. As soon as she comes to, she’s going to call us. Then we call Boyd. The FBI goes in, saves her, and it’s over.”

“And you just made the decision to take that chance?” Foggy accused him.

“Yes, I did,” Matt replied not betraying the twinge of worry he felt. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now in the face of Foggy’s panic and Karen’s quiet concern, the possible consequences were beginning to eat at him.

“Look, I understand. We still have time to go back and get everything, though. But this was her plan from the beginning. If we don’t do it now, then we will lose a month and that’s another month all those women may not have.”

Foggy threw up his hands in surrender, “fine! I just hope you’re right and this works.”

So do I, thought Matt.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to let you, my loyal readers, know that I have almost finished writing this story. It looks like it will have 39 chapters. I have finished the climax and all I have left is cleaning up all the loose ends. To celebrate, I thought I would post a second chapter this week. So enjoy!

Just before lunch the next day, Agent Boyd walked into their office. Karen was on the phone trying to work out a payment plan with an elderly client and motioned him towards Matt’s door. She pulled the phone away from her ear and mouthed “I’ll be right there” to him before resuming the conversation.

Matt had already heard Boyd come in and stood up to greet him.

“Agent Boyd how are you today?” he said as they shook hands.

“I don’t know,” the agent replied, “you’re the ones that wanted to see me.”

Matt smiled sheepishly, “have a seat and I will get the others.”

“The others are here,” Foggy announced as he and Karen entered and shut the door behind them.

“Great, the gang’s all here,” Boyd said with a touch of sarcasm eliciting a short laugh out of Matt. “So, what’s so important that I had to sneak down here?”

“Nyah is missing,” Matt told him.

That got his attention. “Missing? When?”

“Two days now.”

“And you’re sure she’s missing?”

Karen answered his question, “yes, we have lunch together every Wednesday and she didn’t show up.”

“And she’s not answering her phone,” Matt added.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Boyd held up his hands and made a patting motion in the air. “There could be any number of explanations.”

“Of course,” Karen said dryly, “we are looking into multiple disappearances of young women approximately the same age as her, she’s been threatened by a cop involved, and beat up in an alley. Our office was set on fire by said cop. And now Nyah’s missing? Oh, she must be in Colorado skiing or something!”

Boyd looked at Foggy for support, but the lawyer just shrugged.

“Well, when you put it that way, ok,” he conceded. “But what do you want me to do? We still do not have enough of a case to go up against Montgomery and his lackeys.”

Karen’s anger left her at his admission.

“We know that, Agent Boyd,” Matt said. “We just wanted you to know they stepped up their threats against us and Nyah’s paying the price.”

Boyd stood, “let me see what I can find out. Do you have her phone number? Maybe we can track her phone.”

Not likely, thought Matt, since it was turned off right now to save its battery. But to keep playing the game, Karen gave Boyd the number.

“You guys just lay low until you hear back from me,” Boyd cautioned them. “If they did kidnap her, then you are in just as much danger. Don’t go anywhere alone. If you do go out, try to stay in public places with lots of people.”

“Got it,” Foggy nodded and gave him a thumbs up. “Lay low. Don’t get kidnapped.”

After Boyd left, Karen turned to Matt, “well, that sucked.”

Matt chuckled, “yeah, but it was what we expected. Wait until Nyah resurrects tonight and calls. Then the shit will hit the fan!”

“And they would have gotten away with it,” Foggy said in a fake voice, “if it weren’t for those meddling kids!”

****

Nyah’s eyes fluttered open to complete darkness, her pupils dilated to their fullest in the complete darkness of the basement room. Years of experience allowed her to fight back the momentary disorientation that occurred immediately after her resurrection by closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. Keeping her eyes closed, she listened to her surroundings for any clue to her location, but apart from an occasional creak of the building, there was nothing of note to hear.

She opened her eyes again to the darkness. The darkness around her was absolute. Reaching out with her right hand, she felt for clues from her surroundings. Pressed up against her right side were cardboard boxes. Her searching fingers disturbed a thick layer of dust that drifted down onto her face, making her eyes water and her nose itch. She successfully fought off the sneeze that it triggered and blinked her eyes to clear them.

Her left side was pressed up against an irregular shape that was as cold as the floor she was laying on. Her fingers encountered fabric when she tentatively felt the shape. She swallowed the feeling of dread that it aroused and continued to explore the shape. Near her hip, she felt the cold skin and hair of the corpse lying on the floor beside her.

Nyah sat up and scooted away from the body, then carefully climbed to her feet, careful not to disturb the boxes that were crowded around her. Stepping around the body on the floor, she explored her surroundings. She was in a storage room of some kind, crowded with boxes. A few steps down the narrow aisle in was a door with no light coming through under it from the other side. She tried the handle and found it unlocked but didn’t open it.

She smiled as realization dawned: Matt must have followed through on her plan to entrap the DA. That would mean her cell phone was somewhere nearby. She felt the wall beside the door and found the light switch and flipped it on. Blinking furiously at the sudden light, she was able to make out that the room was small and had no windows, so she was safe to leave the light on while she searched.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, she looked at the body on the floor and gave a soft gasp: it was Mrs. Williams from the Women’s Center. Kneeling beside the body, she could see ligature marks on her neck where she had been strangled. Apparently, she had outlived her usefulness to Montgomery.

Behind Williams, she spied her cellphone tucked in between two boxes. She reached around the corpse to pick it up and turned it on. It was fully charged. The time read 10:21 and there was a text message from Matt waiting for her.

~Welcome back! Give me a call when you find this. Stay safe. ~

She was pushing the button to call him back when she heard a noise upstairs. Hurrying to the door, she turned off the light and used the illumination from her phone to make her way to the back of the room and squeeze in between a stack of boxes and the wall. Overhead, she heard at least two people walking and the murmur of their conversation, but she couldn’t make out the words.

She pushed the call button on her phone and held it up to her ear.

Matt picked up on the first ring. “Nyah?”

“Yeah,” she answered quietly. “Am I in Montgomery’s basement?”

“Yes, it only made sense to go with your idea.”

“Thank you. But we might have a problem. Mrs. William’s body is in here with me and I hear someone upstairs.”

There was a pause on the other end as Matt considered the situation. “Ok, I’m calling Agent Boyd as soon as I hang up. There’s an opening for a crawl space on the wall opposite the door, hide there if you need to.”

“Good to know. Text me when someone is on their way.”

“Be safe,” he said before the call ended.

She set her phone on vibrate and put it in her pocket. Now she just had to hide until help arrived.

*****

“Is she alright?” Karen demanded when Matt got off the phone.

“Yeah, but they killed Williams and her body was dumped in the same room.”

“Oh, my God! She needs to get out of there!”

“Calm down. She’s ok for now and you heard me tell her about the crawl space. She can get out of there if something happens,” Matt assured her. “Now, let me call Boyd.”

****

“What?” was Agent Boyd’s incredulous response to Matt. “There’s a body? Why didn’t she call 911?”

“Come on,” Matt said impatiently. “You know the answer. We can’t trust the cops.”

“Yeah, I know,” came the weary reply. “Did she say where she was?”

“No, but Karen has an app to track her and she’s on the same block as the DA’s house. If you need more confirmation you can have her phone located.”

“Ok, I’ll have someone do that. I’m heading to the office now.”

“Karen,” Matt said after the call, “text her and let her know everything is in motion.”

“On it.” Karen was already typing out the message on her phone.

“What now?” Foggy asked.

Matt stood up. “I’m going to change and go keep an eye on things until the FBI gets there.”

Karen stood up too. “I’m going with you.”

“No!” 

“No, you’re not!” Matt said at the same time as Foggy.

Karen raised her chin, “you can’t order me around. Either of you!”

Matt shook his head, “it’s going to be crawling with the FBI before long. You don’t think it will look suspicious if you are found there when they arrive?” He tapped his temple with a finger, “use your brain. We want this case to be a slam dunk. If you’re there, they can make a case for entrapment or a setup.”

She sighed and flopped back down on the couch beside Foggy. “I hate just sitting here and doing nothing.”

“Then make yourself useful,” Matt said, tossing her an ear mic. “Stay in contact with her and keep me updated. I’ll relay information back to you from there.”

Karen smiled, mollified, “thank you.” Then she picked up her phone and texted Nyah the plan.

*****

The voices overhead grew louder as a third voice joined in. Nyah stayed in her position behind the boxes even though it was uncomfortable; it was out of sight and near the opening to the crawl space in case she had to move fast. She had turned off the light and could no longer see anything in the darkness even after her eyes adjusted. She felt her phone vibrate and pulled it out to check the incoming text from Karen. Everything was progressing as hoped, she just had to hold out for a little longer.

A door slamming jerked her attention away from her phone. The footsteps were overhead now and getting closer. Another door opened and she could hear them descending the stairs down to the basement. She shoved the phone into her pocket and made herself as small as possible to avoid detection.

A faint light filtered into the room from under the door and she could make out the voices from the other room.

“Just stop your whining and take care of the body, damnit!” the voice had to be the DA. She had only heard him on the TV, but there was no mistaking the carefully modulated voice of the career politician.

“You’re the boss, but this won’t be as good of a dump as Hog Island.” The second voice was Detective Farley.

“I’m not going to keep a body in my basement until Diego decides to show up. I’m the District Attorney for fuck’s sake!”

A third voice tried to calm Montgomery down, “don’t worry, we’ll take care of it and even if it’s found, it won’t be traced back to you.”

There was a scuffle and followed by the sound of a body hitting the wall.

“Listen here,” growled Montgomery, “it better not be found. Period! That’s what I pay you for. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Boss,” the third man wheezed.

“Yes, Boss,” repeated Farley.

“Good. Now go get her and get the fuck out of my home. And do NOT EVER bring a dead body here again!”

“Yes, Boss,” both men replied.

The doorknob rattled and the door opened, admitting light into the room. Nyah didn’t dare peak around the box to get a look, but she heard one of the men enter the room and move toward her.

“I’ll get the feet, you get the head,” Farley told the other man. “Shit, there’s no space to move in here. Get the light.”

The overhead light flickered on and lit the room. She could hear him shoving boxes out of his way and the stack next to her teetered precariously. She held her breath and said a silent prayer to the Eternal Heaven that it wouldn’t fall.

Farley and the other man grunted as they lifted the body and carried it towards the door. Nyah let out her breath and sagged back against the wall in relief as they exited the room.

“Hey, what’s that?” the third guy asked.

“What?”

She heard him step back into the room. “It’s a necklace.”

“Must have broke when I strangled her,” Farley told him. “Grab it. We can’t leave it here.”

“Check and make sure nothing else is left behind,” Montgomery told them. “I can’t have anything down here that can tie me to her.”

There was a shuffling, then a grunt as something collided with a stack of boxes. The stack next to her wobbled then toppled over, knocking the stack she was standing behind down and exposing her.

“What the hell?” the man in the middle of the room stared at her in shock.

“Fuck, it’s that Bitch!” Farley yelled from the doorway. “Grab her!”


	32. Chapter 32

Nyah took advantage of his shock and launched herself over the toppled boxes at the third man, catching him off guard and knocked him into another stack of boxes. She dashed past his flailing form towards Farley. He snarled at her and reached out to grab her, but at the last moment she kicked out and her foot connected with his groin. He grimaced in pain and bent over to protect his genitals from additional abuse, and she brought her other knee up and impacted painfully with his chin. He went over face first, sprawling out on the floor, and she leapt over him and through the door.

Montgomery was standing to the side and she veered away from him as she dashed to the stairs and freedom, her fight or flight instinct taking over. In the back of her mind, she knew she needed to stay and delay the men until the FBI arrived, but she had taken a lot of abuse over the last few months and the thought of enduring more was almost too much. She just wanted a reprieve, if only for a month.

But that reprieve would come at a price that she wasn’t willing to pay. Thoughts of all the young women these men had abducted flashed through her mind and she forced herself to slow as she neared the stairs, allowing Montgomery to catch up with her. The DA reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair and viciously jerked her backwards.

“Oh, no you don’t!” he said as he spun her around and backhanded her. She managed to keep her feet under her and backed away from him.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” she told him holding up her hands in front of her and blurted out the first thing that came to mind as he stepped towards her. “I just need to find Marina Vitalidi.” 

“In my basement?” he scoffed. “Try again.” The other two men coming up behind him laughed.

Nyah thought for a couple of seconds then shrugged, “I got nothing.” This elicited more laughter from them.

“Good,” Montgomery nodded. “Get rid of her,” he said to the guys behind him.

“With pleasure, Boss,” Farley said and pulled out his gun and aimed it at her.

“No, you dumb fuck!” Montgomery snarled. “Don’t kill her here! Take her with you and kill her there!”

“Whatever,” Farley shrugged and started to turn away, then quickly turned back and pulled the trigger anyway.

As he started to turn away, Nyah spun to make a dash to the stairs so the bullet caught her in the shoulder instead of the chest. Pain flared and she stumbled but kept her forward momentum and made it to the stairs. This time, her goal wasn’t to escape, though. It was to stall until the FBI could get there. Oh, and stay alive this time.

Pushing the pain to the back of her mind, she focused on getting up the stairs ahead of the men pursuing her.

Please hurry, she thought to herself as she bounded up them.

****

Matt wasted no time getting to Montgomery’s place, racing recklessly, even for him, along the roof tops and fire escapes. Winded from his wild run through the city, he watched the building from his perch across the alley. He was too far away to make out the conversation in the house but could identify the three different voices of the men: Montgomery, Farley, and McCarthy, a police sergeant he had seen several times with both Farley and the late Maroney.

With alarm, he noted they were descending into the basement where Nyah was hiding. Quickly, he gauged the distance between the rooftops of the two buildings. The distance was more than he was normally comfortable jumping, but he was reasonably sure he could make it. Backing up to give him room to get a running start, he sprinted to the edge and leaped across the gap.

He fell short of the edge of the other building, his fingers clutching at the edge, struggling for a grip and his feet scrambling against the rough bricks trying to find some traction. For a moment, he thought he would actually fall, but then his right foot caught the edge of a brick that protruded a fraction more than its comrades and slowed his slide, allowing his fingers to finally get a grip on the edge. Once stable, he swiftly pulled himself up onto the roof and surveyed his surroundings. 

The fire escape was on the opposite side, there was nothing to impede his progress to it, only a small rooftop garden and entertainment area, both sadly neglected. When he reached the fire escape, he swung out onto it and climbed down to the first landing. The room beyond the window was dark and he didn’t hear or sense anybody on that floor of the home, so he carefully tried the window. It was locked and he could detect a slight electric signature indicative of an alarm sensor. He had two choices: look for another window that was unlocked or open, which would take time; or jimmy this window open and take the chance that the alarm system was not engaged.

The sharp retort of a gun from inside the home added a third option. Using his elbow, he broke the window and reached in to unlock the latch. Matt entered the house quickly and hurried to the stairs as a second shot echoed through the house.

****

Nyah reached the top of the stairs, flinching as Farley fired another shot blindly up the stairs. The shot missed her, lodging in the wall only a couple of inches above her head. She didn’t pause, instead she turned the corner and continued up to the second floor. Behind her, she could hear Montgomery yelling at Farley.

The second floor was dimly lit by a single light in the room at the top of the stairs. She made her way through to the hall beyond, keeping her hand clamped tightly on the bullet wound on her shoulder to slow the bleeding. Light shown under one of the two doors, so she chose the other room. It was being used as an office, the oversized desk dominating the space and the walls lined with shelves. There was another door, which led to a small bathroom with only a sink and toilet, offering no convenient place to hide.

“Crap!” Nyah muttered under her breath, wondering how much time she had before Montgomery and his thugs searched this floor. She couldn’t hear anything outside the office yet but knew it wouldn’t take them long to reach it. She returned to the desk, grabbed a heavy paper weight off it, and hid in the only place of concealment in the room, under it. Then she waited, hoping that the FBI would arrive before she was discovered.

****

Now that he was in the house, Matt realized that anything he did as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen might jeopardize the case they were trying to build against Montgomery, so he had to tread with care. First, he needed to find Nyah and make sure she was safe without the others seeing him. Barring that, he needed to give her every advantage to hold out until the FBI arrived. He simply wasn’t willing to let her sacrifice herself again.

The room he found himself in was an unoccupied bedroom with an attached bathroom. Going into the bathroom, he checked the drawers of the vanity and found a variety of items, including a case of hairpins and hair ties. Going back to the room, he stripped the cloth covering from the hair ties exposing the elastic, then he wrapped the elastic around the hairpin and bent it into a U shape. Finding an electrical outlet, he grasped the hairpin using the elastic, taking care not to touch any of the metal, and inserted both ends into the outlet.

There was a spark and a pop, then the outlet went silent. Matt could no longer hear or sense any current running through it. He had successfully tripped the breaker for the outlet. Hopefully, the lights for this floor were on the same circuit. Going to the door of the room and listening at the door, he determined that he was still alone on this floor and flipped the light switch on briefly. There was no buzz from the overhead light. Good, this floor was in darkness. Now to move onto the second floor.

At the top of the stairs, he paused.

“What the fuck happened to the lights?” Farley asked from one of the lower floors.

Apparently, the breaker he tripped affected more than just the third floor.

“This house is old, and the wiring hasn’t been updated for at least three decades,” Montgomery answered. “Farley go guard the front door. McCarthy, you guard the back. Don’t let her leave the house. I will go get flashlights from the kitchen.”

So, they had discovered Nyah and she was somewhere in the house still. He needed to find her first. Creeping down the stairs silently, he stopped at the landing to the second floor and immediately smelled blood. Crouching down, he found several large drops on the floor leading away from the stairs. She had been wounded and was bleeding, but she was somewhere on this floor and he only had a few minutes to find her before the others resumed their hunt for her.

**** 

Sitting under the desk, Nyah had removed her shirt and wrapped it around her shoulder to staunch the bleeding, the bullet had just grazed her, so the bleeding was slowing. The wound was starting to throb, but it shouldn’t slow her down and she might have to move quickly. She was going over her options when she heard the soft creak of the door opening. She tensed her body, willing her fight or flight response to trigger and clutched the paperweight tighter.

“Nyah!” hissed a soft voice she easily recognized.

“Matt?” she whispered back.

She jumped in surprise when a shadow fell over her and a hand touched her arm, letting out a squeak of alarm.

“Shhh,” Matt told her. “They are just below us. Are you alright?”

She was relieved that it was him and not one of the other men, but she was irritated at him also.

“Matt, you shouldn’t be here. If they or the FBI catch you…,” she started.

“They won’t. Are you okay?” he repeated more forcefully.

“I got hit in the shoulder, nothing critical. I’ll be okay.”

She could tell he was torn between trying to rescue her and following through with the plan, even though she couldn’t make out his expression through his mask, so she reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a hard squeeze.

“I can’t leave. I have to be here when the FBI gets here.”

“I know,” he surprised her with his answer. “Can you hold out?”

She nodded, knowing he could sense the movement, “I’ll be fine. I just don’t know how long I can hide from Montgomery and his guys.”

“I managed to slow them down a bit by taking out some of the lights. But that won’t keep them long.” He paused, “I have an idea. Hold still, I’ll try not to make this hurt too much.”

Before Nyah could ask what he meant, he reached out and grabbed her wounded shoulder, squeezing gently. She flinched and hissed through her teeth.

“Sorry,” he apologized as he pulled his hand away. “Stay here.”

He started to stand, then she felt him bend back down and brush his lips across hers.

“Stay safe,” he whispered against them, then he was gone.


	33. Chapter 33

Back out in the hallway, Matt went to the stairs to listen.

“McCarthy, you stay here and watch the stairs and we will search this floor,” the DA’s quiet words carried clearly up the stairs to his sensitive ears. “And, Farley, if you fire that gun again, I’m going to shove it so far up your ass, you’ll spit bullets every time you cough. Understand? We’re lucky nobody’s called the cops yet.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Farley replied with sarcasm.

“Do you have a problem?”

“No, Boss. Let’s catch this bitch and get this over with,” Farley told him.

Matt heard them moving away from the stairs. McCarthy coughed and shuffled around a bit, then leaned against a wall. 

Once he was sure the other two were far enough away to not be a problem, he used the hand that he had touched Nyah’s shoulder with and grasped the hand rail, leaving a smear of blood, then climbed two stairs up to the next floor and placed his hand against the wall. A few more stairs up, he repeated the action, then returned to the second floor. Going to the other room on the floor, he pushed open the door and entered. It was Montgomery’s bedroom, his heavy cologne made Matt’s nose itch. 

Searching the room quickly, he picked up a wooden box from the dresser. He returned to the door and leaned against the wall by the door to listen and wait, ready to act in case he needed to provide a distraction to buy more time.

****

Crouched under the desk, Nyah listened intently for any sound from the men searching for her. From the floor below her, she could occasionally catch the murmur of their conversations and doors being opened and closed. While she didn’t fear death, she would really like to make it through the month without dying prematurely. The paperweight was a comforting presence in her hand, and she intended to use it if she was discovered. She didn’t plan to go down without a fight.

The voices grew louder as they climbed the stairs to the floor she was on.

“Hey, check this out,” she could barely hear one of the men saying. “Looks like she went up to the top floor.”

She couldn’t make out the response from the other man, but she did hear heavy steps ascending the stairs. Something, or someone, probably Matt, had bought her a bit more time.

A soft creak outside her door was the only warning she had before the door was thrown open and the light turned on. She tensed and waited for the right moment to make her move as she listened to the slight scuff of shoes against carpet. The sound moved to the right side of the room to skirt around the desk. She gripped the paperweight tighter.

From further down the hall, there was a thud, and the person in the room stopped and retreated.

“We got you now,” he muttered. It was Farley.

The other door on the floor was thrown open, banging heavily into the wall.

“What the hell?” Farley exclaimed.

Nyah heard the sounds of a struggle coming from the room followed by grunts of pain. That was definitely Matt. There was no one else in the house besides the two of them and the three men she was hiding from.

Crawling out from under the desk, she rushed out into the hall and through the open door to the other room. Farley was on the floor with Matt on top of him, fighting for the gun. Skirting around them, she looked for an opening where she could help her friend. Before she could find an opening, the gun went off with a sharp retort. Nyah reflexively ducked and yelped when a picture near her head exploded, showering her with shards of glass and plaster from the wall behind it.

Unfortunately, her yelp distracted Matt enough to allow Farley to get one of his hands free and deliver a vicious punch to Matt’s diaphragm. He grunted in pain, but he didn’t release the gun. The two of them twisted slightly and Nyah saw her chance, she dashed forward and delivered a kick to Farley’s ribs.

“Argh!” he cried out and released his grip on the gun to raise his hands to protect his ribs.

She dropped to her knees and brought the paperweight down. He went limp under Matt.

“Go!” she commanded, hearing the others coming down the stairs.

Matt didn’t hesitate. Pushing himself off Farley, he dashed to the closet and slipped inside just as McCarthy burst into the room. Nyah scrambled back, then stopped as he leveled his gun at her.

“Stop right there.”

She dropped the paperweight and held up her hands in surrender.

Montgomery entered the room behind McCarthy and stepped around him to look down at Farley on the floor.

“Give me your gun. I’ve had it with you idiots shooting my house up,” he snarled at the other man.

When McCarthy reluctantly handed over the weapon, the DA had him check on Farley.

“He’s alive, but out cold,” was McCarthy’s assessment.

“Goddamnit, you guys are a bunch of bumbling idiots. For fuck’s sake, she’s just one small woman and she is kicking your asses.”

He turned his angry gaze to her, “and you,” he spat, “I’ve had about all I can take of you. I should just shoot you in the head right now.” He raised the gun.

Just then, his cell phone rang. “Fuck.”

When he answered it, Nyah could hear a male voice on the other end, but not make out the words.

“No, I don’t need any units dispatched. Have them stand down.”

A pause as the man on the other end spoke.

“I don’t know,” he snapped. “Make something up. Just have them stand down!”

Snapping his phone shut, he wagged the gun at Nyah, “get up.”

Once she was on her feet, he motioned to the door, “downstairs now.”

To McCarthy, “grab him and follow us.”

In his pocket his phone rang again, but he ignored it as the four of them left the room and started down the stairs. The ringing stopped, then immediately started again. At the landing, he stopped her and answered it.

“What now?”

As the voice on the other end answered, there was a crash at the front door, followed by “FBI!” as the sound of multiple people entered the house.

Nyah, taking advantage of the momentary confusion, knocked his gun aside and shoved him backwards. As he staggered backwards trying to regain his balance, she dashed down the stairs towards the first floor, yelling “Help me!” in a panicked voice that was not quite faked.

Another bullet tore into the wall over her head as she jumped off the final stair and rounded the corner, running into the chest of an FBI agent. The man grabbed her by the arms and spun her out of the way as Montgomery came barreling down the stairs after her and stopped dead in front of no less than five agents with their weapons trained on him.

“Drop your weapon,” one of the agents commanded. 

With a grimace, he complied.

“Silas Montgomery, you are under arrest,” the same agent informed him.

“For what?”

“Human trafficking and wrongful imprisonment, to start with. I’m sure there are a few others that will be added soon.”

Montgomery sneered, “you don’t have any evidence for any of that.”

“Sir,” another agent said coming up from the basement, “we found a body.”

“It was her,” Montgomery indicated Nyah, who was being ushered towards the front door. “I caught her breaking into my home. That’s why these two cops are here; they answered my 911 call. She attacked detective Farley.”

“We will get this all sorted out downtown. Put your hands behind your head and turn around.”

****

Outside was a riot of confusion with all the emergency vehicles, a profusion of FBI personnel, and curious onlookers. Nyah was ushered to an ambulance to have her wound attended to. She allowed the EMT to clean and bandage it but refused to go to the hospital until she spoke to the agent in charge. Giving up trying to persuade her, the EMT pointed her to the nearest agent. She sent a quick text to both Matt and Karen informing them that she was okay, and that Montgomery was in custody. Then she approached the agent, who escorted her to Agent Boyd.

“Agent Boyd, Ms. Song would like a word with you.”

The agent excused himself from the group of people he was talking to, turned and looked down at her with a concerned frown, “shouldn’t you be on your way to the hospital?”

She shook her head, “it’s just a graze. The EMT said it probably wouldn’t even need stitches.”

He just raised an eyebrow, “so what can I do for you? I’m kind of in the middle of something, in case you didn’t notice.”

“I won’t take up much of your time, then. I overheard Montgomery talking to Farley and they said that detective Maroney’s body had been dumped some place called Hog Island by someone named Diego.”

“Maroney? They were involved in his disappearance too?”

“Yes, you should ask Farley about it.”

He nodded, “I will. As soon as we locate him. Now if you will excuse me?” He started to turn away.

“Wait,” she grabbed his arm to stop him, “what do you mean ‘when you locate him?’ He was knocked unconscious on the second floor.”

Boyd shook his head, “we’ve searched the house from top to bottom and Farley was not there. Now, go to the hospital. An agent will come take your statement there.”

She backed away and let Boyd return to his people. Walking towards the ambulance, she pulled out her phone and hurriedly texted Matt.

~Farley’s gone~

The phone rang almost immediately.

“What do you mean?”

“Agent Boyd said he wasn’t in the house. Matt, he’s not in custody. Karen and Foggy could be in danger.”

“Hold on.” On the other end, she heard some shuffling and a grunt. “Got him! He’s a block over.”

The phone went dead in her hand and she looked up just in time to see a dark figure running across the roof of the building next to the house. Tucking her phone into her pocket, she looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to her, then ducked behind a large van. She walked over to the police barrier keeping people from entering the crime scene and, when the officer manning it was distracted by an over-zealous reporter trying to get around, she vaulted over it and blended in with the crowd. When she was free of the crowd, she started running down the sidewalk, parallel to the path Matt had taken.

At the first intersection, she turned and dashed to the alley that ran behind all the buildings. She could barely make out movement two blocks ahead of her, but Farley was a heavyset man and she had just clonked him on the head, so he shouldn’t be moving too fast. She sprinted down the alley after him.

****

On the rooftops above and just one block ahead of Nyah, Matt was starting to make up the distance between him and Farley. The distance between the buildings was steadily decreasing as he put the more affluent homes behind him, but the first through street had slowed him down and he was going to have to go down to ground level at the next street.

Coming to the end of the buildings, he slid, jumped, and vaulted down the nearest fire escape and landed with a nice roll onto a discarded sofa, popping back to his feet without missing a beat. He could hear Farley’s pounding feet and his labored breathing only halfway up the alley now.

Another sound stopped him, though, as Nyah crossed the street and ran into the alley.

“What are you doing here?”

She ran past him, not slowing, “helping you catch this prick.”

Matt took off running to catch up with her.

“Can you get ahead of him?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

They sprinted the rest of the way down the alley together and at the next street, Nyah turned to take the sidewalk and flank the escaping dirty cop.

Matt continued to race after him, constantly gaining. He hoped sending Nyah to cut him off would keep her out of trouble long enough for him to catch Farley without her help. He was tired of her being in constant danger.

At the next intersection, as he was rushing across the road, he heard an oncoming car and slowed enough to avoid it. However, the driver of the vehicle overreacted, blared his horn, and jerked the car into the other lane, exactly into Matt’s path. Matt, momentarily deafened by the horn, was clipped by the front bumper and thrown ten feet into more oncoming traffic.

His world became a disorienting cacophony of squealing tires and car horns as he lay on his back in the street. Then silence descended with only the loud ringing in his sensitive ears.

“Is that the Devil?” he heard someone ask. It sounded muffled, like he was hearing it from underwater.

“Someone call 911,” another voice chimed in.

Another one yelled, “call the police!”

Slowly the world came back into focus for him as his hearing returned. He sat up and tried to rise to his feet but nearly fell back down as the world swam around him.

“Hey,” a voice said beside him, “take it easy. You had quite a spill.” Firm hands grasped his arm and helped him regain his balance.

Another set of hands took his other elbow and together they guided him to the sidewalk.

“Do you need us to call an ambulance?” the second person asked with concern.

Matt shook his head, “I’ve got to go,” he muttered.

“Are you sure? You didn’t break anything did you?” This from the first person.

Matt heard sirens in the distance. His hearing was almost back to 100%, but his head was still swimming. He didn’t feel any pain, yet. Adrenalin was still high in his system.

“No,” he shook off their hands. “Thank you,” he told them and oriented himself. At least they escorted him to the right side of the street. The opening for the alley was just a few feet away.

Unsteadily at first, he started down the alley, getting more stead as he went. By the time he was halfway down it, he was back to running full out. Damn, he had lost a lot of time back there. He couldn’t even sense Farley anymore ahead of him.


	34. Chapter 34

Nyah ran four blocks before she turned to get back to the alley. Reaching the entrance, she looked down it for signs of Farley or Matt. Seeing neither, she looked the other direction and failed to see them that way also.

“Damnit, where are you?” she muttered. Surely, she hadn’t lost both of them. Stepping into the shadowed path, she cautiously crept down the side, keeping as close to the building on her right as possible.

Twenty feet in, she heard something and froze, but it was just the sounds of a wreck a couple blocks back the way they had come. She discounted it and continued to advance into the darkness. The sliver of moon in the night sky did little to illuminate the narrow passage between the buildings and the light from the streets only penetrated its gloomy depths for a few feet. She could see the outlines of dumpsters and cars along its sides and the occasional pile of debris, but no clear details and no movement.

Growing more confident that she was alone, and that Matt and Farley were no longer in the alley, she moved faster to reach the other end. Passing in front of a recessed doorway, she failed to see Farley until he lunged out and grabbed her around the throat with his meaty arm. The hard barrel of his gun pressed against the side of her head.

“I’ve got you know,” he breathed.

Nyah struggled, but he tightened his arm, cutting off her air.

“I will strangle you right now if you don’t behave,” he tapped the gun, not too gently, against her skull.

She stopped struggling and he loosened his hold for her to draw a breath.

“Now, my ride should be here shortly and then we are going to get out of here. If you want to live, I suggest you do exactly what I tell you. Do you understand?” Another tap of the gun to emphasize his point.

She winced, wondering where the hell Matt was, “got it.”

“Good,” he grunted and turned her to start walking back the way she had come. After a few steps, a car turned into the alley from the street, its headlights momentarily blinding her.

A car door opened and closed. “What the fuck happened, Farley?”

“Turn those fucking lights off, I can’t see a goddamn thing with them shining in my eyes,” her captor shot back.

The blinding lights shut off a few seconds later, but she was still seeing flashes of light and little else. But neither could Farley.

“Come get this bitch, will ya?”

“Is this the chick causing us so much trouble?”

A cold hand wrapped around her arm and jerked her away from Farley, slamming her down face first on the hood of the car and twisting her arm painfully high up her back to hold her in place.

“Yeah, we keep trying to get rid of her, but she’s like a bad rash and keeps coming back.”

“Well, let someone competent handle her this time. She won’t be coming back from what I’m going to do to her.”

“Fuck you, Everett,” Farley spat.

“Just get your fat ass in the car and let’s get out of here,” he pulled her up by her arm and twisted it hard. “You’re not going to give me any trouble, are you?” 

Nyah’s vision was starting to come back and she shook her head meekly. She had seen movement in the alley behind Everett and hoped it was Matt.

Unfortunately, so did Farley. “Watch out!” he yelled, just as Matt rushed out of the shadows. 

Everett spun and raised his gun, but Nyah twisted in his grasp, her shoulder popping painfully as she did, and knocked the gun harmlessly aside. The bullet missed Matt as he leaped at the FBI agent and together the three went down; Matt on top of Everett and Nyah drug to the ground by his grip on her now useless arm.

Once on the ground, Everett released her to fend off Matt’s blows and she rolled free of the pair. Standing up, she spun and froze with Farley’s gun pointed directly at her face.

“Not so fast.” 

Her eyes widened as she watched his finger flex to pull the trigger. Without thinking, she dropped back to the ground and swept his feet out from under him. The car window beside them exploded from the wild bullet. 

She jumped on top of Farley’s flailing body and dropped her knee into his gut, knocking the air out of him. His face turned purple as he tried to catch his breath.

“Not so fun, is it?” she snarled and brought her palm up into his nose. The sickening crunch of the cartilage and bone was a satisfying sound, but not as much as his high-pitched squeal. She grabbed for the gun with her good hand and tried to wrestle it from him, but he wasn’t letting go. Instead he used his weight advantage to roll them over and pin her to the ground.

Pulling free of her hand, he lowered his gun and yet another blast of another gunshot echoed through the alley.

Farley looked confused, then his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed on top of her, his gun clattering to the ground.

Shoving him off of her, Nyah looked over at Matt still holding the gun he had just fired. Under him, Everett lay still, his face a bloody mess.

“About time you pulled your weight,” Nyah gasped and flopped back down to catch her breath.

Matt chuckled, “pull my weight? I’m getting tired of having to save your ass. You need to find a new hobby.”

“Me?” she giggled. “You’re the one in spandex.”

“This,” he sputtered, “it’s state-of-the-art anti-ballistic material.”

“Oh, so it’s expensive spandex.”

He looked ready to argue, then giggled also. It was an incongruous sound coming from someone covered with blood wearing a mask and a state-of-the-art anti-ballistic suit while straddling an unconscious man.

“Well, I thought you needed help, but it appears I’m too late,” agent Boyd said from behind the car.

Nyah stood up and put herself between the FBI agent and Matt. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s exactly what it looks like,” he paused, and his stern expression cracked slightly as he tried to suppress a smile. “Two people forced to defend themselves.”

Nyah relaxed and sighed, “good. I’m tired of being threatened and attacked by law enforcement.”

Boyd snorted, “well, hopefully, we just took a big bite out of the corruption in this city.”

He looked at Matt, who had risen to stand behind her, “you better get out of here before my team gets here.”

“You’re letting him go?” Nyah asked in surprise.

“This time.” Boyd leveled a stern look at the masked man, “But you need to reconsider your career choice. Some high-level people have taken an interest in you. People like the Avengers are barely tolerated as it is, but at least they have some protection. You are out here on your own. I don’t think you want the kind of trouble these people can bring down on you.”

Matt nodded, “thanks for the warning.”

He started down the alley, moving stiffly.

Nyah watched him disappear into the depths of the alley, concern written on her face, but she knew better than to ask him about it or offer help. She turned back to Boyd; she would deal with him later, back at the apartment.

“Now, will you try to act like a traumatized victim and go to the damn hospital? It will play better in the narrative if you do.”

She grinned up at him and held up her good arm like a child, “do you want to carry me like the big hero you are?”

He smiled and shook his head, “I said traumatized, not pathetic. How about I support you on your way to the ambulance?”

She feigned a pout, “you’re no fun.”

****

Between her injury and the FBI’s questioning, Nyah wasn’t released from the hospital until after noon the next day. Karen had come to sit with her but ended up sitting out in the waiting room for several hours while she retold her story multiple times to the agent that had been assigned to her. Agent Boyd stopped in to see her once and updated her on the case. They had found the computer in the basement storage room and, with the incriminating evidence on it, they had as a rock-solid case against Montgomery. Everett had been arrested and had implicated at least two other FBI agents at the field office and three cops from two different precincts. One of the cops was cooperating and providing additional names and evidence. 

Using the evidence on the computer, they were in the process of tracking down the women that had been abducted. And, based on the information she had given them, Maroney’s body had been found buried on an island north of the city. The mysterious Diego was still being investigated.

She was glad that it was finally over. By the time she was discharged, she was so tired that she didn’t even protest the wheelchair that the nurse insisted she had to use.

Back at their building, though, she bid Karen goodbye then went straight to Matt’s apartment instead of hers. His door was locked, and she hesitated before she knocked. He had been up longer than she had and had looked pretty beat up when he left them in the alley. She should let him sleep for now, she thought and turned away.

Before she could take a step away, the door opened behind her and a very disheveled Matt Murdock stood there clad only in a pair of sweatpants.

“Ouch, Matt,” she frowned. “You look like you got hit by a bus.”

It wasn’t much of an understatement. His chest was covered with bruises and his left eye was almost swollen shut.

“You should see the bus,” he smiled faintly.

She giggled, then sobered. “You need to get some rest. We can talk later.”

He grabbed her arm before she could turn away, “stay.”

“I need to sleep and so do you.”

“Then sleep here. I’ll take the couch.”

At her doubtful expression, he added, “I’ll sleep better knowing you are near and safe.”

Ouch, that was low. How could she say no to that?

“Okay, but on one condition. I take the couch.”

“We could share the bed. We’ve done that before,” he gave her a charming smile that looked ridiculous on his battered face.

“And that ended up so well,” she reminded him.

He looked downcast. “Please.”

“Alright. You’re too cute when you beg.”

She walked past him into the apartment, pausing to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you for saving me,” she whispered, then proceeded to the bedroom. Matt closed the door and followed her.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to be able to post next week, so I thought I would give you guys a triple post this week. Enjoy!

Over the two next weeks, the case progressed. A dozen women had been located and rescued, including Marina Vitalidi and April Simpson. Unfortunately, some of the leads led to tragic endings; not all the women had survived their ordeal. But at least their families and friend could find closure knowing what had happened. Many of the rescued women needed extensive medical and psychological help. Nyah reached out to her lawyers in Oslo and arranged for a fund to be set up to cover any costs incurred during their recovery.

The arrests for the trafficking ring ballooned and soon there were two dozen people arrested and even more implicated throughout the northeast. Montgomery was the highest ranking official indicted so far, but there was evidence that suggested there were more highly placed people involved.

Hog Island proved to be a graveyard with at least twenty bodies uncovered so far and only a small portion of the area covered so far. Some of the bodies were female, but the majority were male. The coroner’s office was working with the FBI to identify all the remains. The man known only as Diego remained unknown and none of individuals in custody could or would provide any additional information regarding him.

As news of the bust hit the streets, Matt and Foggy were inundated with families looking for missing loved ones. Most were unable to pay much, but that was the way it went for the small law office.

Nyah and Karen were met for lunch on Wednesday as usual at the diner. They discussed the influx of clients and some of the strange payments that had been made.

“I never want to eat another tamale again in my life,” Karen moaned. One of the clients had given them two dozen tamales each.

Nyah laughed as she picked at her lunch. Karen picked up on her mood.

“How are things going with you and Matt?”

Nyah frowned, “they aren’t, really. He’s been so busy with all the missing persons and Agent Boyd is constantly calling me in to ask more questions, we really hadn’t had any time alone to talk.”

“What about things besides talking?” Karen waggled her eyebrows.

Nyah laughed, “definitely not.”

“Wow, that sucks. Maybe you should make time.”

She shrugged, “maybe it’s not meant to be. After all, with my curse my future is limited. Who the hell would want to be in a relationship with someone knowing that they are going to die in some horrible fashion once a month?” She dropped her fork, giving up the pretense of eating. “I’ve been thinking about moving again. Out of sight, out of mind, you know.”

“Yeah, that worked out so well with Wen Lei,” Karen responded dryly. “Look, do you like Matt?”

“Well, yes, I like all of you.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Nyah.”

Nyah thought about the question for a moment. Matt made her feel safe. She was attracted to him to the point of distraction. When he walked into the room, she got butterflies in her stomach. He was kind and gentle. He was also stubborn, quick tempered, and lived a dangerous life. He frustrated her on a regular basis. Sometimes she wanted to kiss him and others to choke the life out of him.

Only one other person in her life had ever caused her such emotional turmoil.

She sighed, “yes, I like him. I think I’ve fallen in love with him.”

Karen reached across the table and grasped her hand, “then fight for him, you idiot.”

Karen was right. One thing the events of the last few months had taught her is that life is precious. She had become so used to death over the centuries, that she had forgotten that. Nyah was tired of just going through the motions of living. It was time for her to actually live. And that included finding happiness. 

****

Matt unlocked his door and stepped into his apartment. They had gotten three more missing person cases today and he had a list of suspects that he needed to look in on tonight. Since he and Nyah had woken up in his bed to the pounding on the door by Agent Boyd looking for her for additional questioning, he had been going non-stop. Every day was busy at the office interviewing new clients, researching leads, and court appearances. Every night had been full of surveillance of suspects and the usual crime fighting.

He had seen her several times over the last ten days, but always with someone else in the room with them. The two of them had not had a chance to discuss what was happing between them for over a week. His frustration was beginning to reach its limits and his temper had flared often over the last two days.

Still, he was reluctant to seek her out. Though he no longer questioned his feelings for her, he wondered if he was out of his mind to expect this relationship to fare any better than others he had in the past. After all, he was a vigilante who put his life in danger every time he went out. He had made plenty of enemies that threatened the safety of anyone he was close to. And finally, there was the mysterious war that Stick had trained him for; whether it was real or not, there was still a danger there.

Distracted as he was by his thoughts, it took a second for him to realize someone was in his apartment. Alarm faded to confusion as he identified Nyah sitting quietly on the couch, watching him. His stomach clenched as her subtle fragrance reached him, lightly floral with a hint of honey.

He dropped his case on the table by the door that she had bought for him to replace the one they broke weeks ago, then took a seat in the armchair closest to her.

He leaned his head back and just smelled her scent and listened to the steady beat of her heart for several long moments as she sat silently waiting. It soothed him and made him feel like he was truly home.

After a while he lifted his head and smiled at her, “this is nice.”

“You’ve had a hectic couple of weeks.”

“And you’ve managed not to die for nearly,” he made a quick count, “ten days. That must be a record.”

She smiled, “be careful, this day isn’t over yet.”

He chuckled, “true, so I probably should lock you in the bedroom and not let you out until after midnight.”

Nyah stood up gracefully and closed the space between them. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she crawled onto the chair with him, straddling his thighs, facing him. Her face was only inches from his.

“Only if you’re locked in there with me.”

Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips softly against his. He didn’t move; he just let her do what she wanted. She pulled away just enough to look at him, her breath gentle against his face. He smiled and she pressed a second kiss against him. This time he did move. He sat up and wrapped an arm around her back to pull her soft body close against his and threaded his other hand up through her loose hair that tumbled down her back in soft waves. When she licked his top lip delicately with the tip of her tongue, he took over the kiss,

With his hand tangled in her hair he held her head still as he deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue and delving into her mouth. Kissing her hungrily, licking the edges of her mouth, sucking her plump lips; he was enveloped by her. Her pliant body, her amazing smell, her soft sounds, and her maddening taste filled his senses. As they drank their fill of each other, another smell reached his nose, warm and earthy, as her need rose, and she rocked her hips against his hard length through their clothes.

They pulled apart slightly, breathing heavily, and he dipped his head to kiss her slender neck; his hand in her hair pulling her head to the side to give him better access. Finding a tender spot that made her moan, he nipped the skin then soothed the spot with his tongue. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and he laughed against her skin.

He kissed his way down her neck to where it met her shoulders, the taunt muscle just above her collar bone beckoning his lips. Unwrapping his arm from her waist, he slipped it under her shirt, his fingers spanning her ribs.

She jumped at his light touch, “that tickles.”

“Sorry,” he murmured and moved it higher to cup her breast through her bra.

“Um, better,” she breathed, arching her back to press it into his hand.

Her hands slid off his shoulders and tugged at his shirt to pull it free from his pants. When he grabbed her hand to stop her, she made a frustrated noise.

“Impatient?”

“Very.”

Wrapping his arm back around her waist, he stood up, taking her with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her face against his neck, taking her turn kissing and nuzzling him.

Walking with her in his arms, he went to his bedroom and kicked the door shut behind them before dropping her on the bed.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter is nothing but smut. If you're not into smut, then you can skip it without missing anything important to the plot. If you are into smut, then enjoy!

Her breath whooshed out of her when her back hit the mattress, but she quickly reached for her shirt to divest herself of it.

“No,” Matt's look was so intense it was hard to believe he was blind. “Leave it on.”

She pouted and leaned back on her elbows, waiting for him to make a move.

He stripped out of his shirt and pants quickly. His underwear followed them to the floor and his cock sprung up standing straight out, its purple head already beaded with pre-cum.

Nyah just took in the masculine beauty of his body. He wasn't bulky like a body builder, no, his frame was too slight to carry that off. He was built like a cross between a runner and a gymnast. His shoulders wide and strong, his torso narrowing down to a nicely defined stomach and slim hips, his thighs muscular. The scars scattered across his body enhanced it instead of detracting from it.

“You're beautiful,” she breathed.

He blushed, and shook his head, “No, you're the beautiful one.”

“I mean it,” she insisted. “You should see yourself the way I am seeing you right now.”

He dropped to his knees at the side of the bed, “I'll just have to take your word for it, I guess.”

She shoved his shoulder with her foot, “damn right, you will.”

He grabbed the offending foot and drug her closer. “Shut up, you're ruining the mood.”

“Is that a command?”

“Would you listen if it was?”

“Hum, maybe. Depends on what I get in return.”

“Then lie back and hush,” he undid the buckle on her sandal and slipped it off her foot. “If you don't, I will tickle you until you submit.”

He brushed his fingers lightly across the sole of her foot and she squealed and tried to pull it away from him, but he hung onto it with a strong grip.

“Okay!” She flopped back down. “I give up. I'll be quiet.”

“Good girl,” he teasingly kissed her on the toe and reached for her other foot to remove that sandal also. Then he rose enough to reach the waist of her jeans and released the button and zipper. Nyah raised her hips to allow him to pull the jeans down and off her. Lying on the bed with him kneeling between her legs and only her lace panties between them made her flush.

He leaned over and kissed her leg just above her knee, “I can see that you know. How hot your skin just became.”

He kissed his way higher, the grabbed her behind the knees and pulled her to the edge of the bed and draped her knees over his warm shoulders. She made a slight sound of protest; she wasn't sure she liked being so exposed but then his lips on the inside of her knee wiped all other thoughts from her head.

With one hand wrapped around each of her thighs to hold her in place, Matt kissed his way up the inside of her legs, alternating sides, moving agonizingly slowly. She realized he was giving her time to get used to his touch. She smiled to herself, reached down to run her fingers through his hair, and allowed her body to relax and just enjoy what he was doing.

“That's better,” he squeezed her thighs gently, and continued to work his way up her body. When he reached the lace that covered her most intimate parts from him, he kissed and sucked on the tendons on either side of the small triangle, making her hips buck under him lips. Finally, he placed a kiss on top of her throbbing clit through it, sucking it through the fabric.

He lifted his head to slide his fingers under the elastic that stretched across her hips and peel them off her body. He immediately returned to the center of her thighs and lowered his head, breathing in the scent of her. Then he licked her with the flat of his tongue all the way up her slit.

“Matt!” she cried out and fisted her hands in his hair.

He continued his exquisite exploration of her, licking and kissing, making her moan and thrash under him. When she thought she couldn't take any more, he drew her clit into his mouth and sucked on it hard while sliding a finger into her, curling it to hit that sweet spot on the inside.

Nyah came so hard, she couldn't breathe, much less make a sound. The world went white around her and her whole body spasmed while she rode out the pleasure. When she collapsed boneless back on the bed and panted for breath, Matt crawled up the bed and pulled her against him, holding her while she recovered.

She stirred after a few moments, craning her neck up to kiss him lingeringly on the lips. He kissed her back thoroughly, tasting of her still. His erection was pinned between them, hard against her thigh. With a smile, she pushed on his shoulder, rolling him onto his back, and crawled on top of him.

“My turn,” she hummed against his mouth.

She took the opposite direction on him that he had on her, working her way down his body. Starting at his neck, she returned his nips that he had given her earlier. He palmed the back of her head and encouraged her, so she used her teeth more, biting and sucking. Pulling back, she admired her handiwork, then moved down to his chest.

He twitched under her and let out a ragged breath when she licked his nipple and took it gently between her teeth and applied a bit of pressure. She dug her nails down his ribs on the other side, leaving little red trails in their wake.

When she licked his navel, he jerked and grabbed her hair, holding her head away from his body.

“That tickles.”

“Okay, so no to the belly button. But now I know your weakness,” she giggled. Damn, she hadn't giggled this much since she was a young girl.

“And I know yours,” he warned.

“Point taken.”

He relaxed his grip on her hair and she placed a quick kiss on the tense muscle on either side of the tempting target.

As she moved lower, he kept his hand in her hair. She teased the indentations on either side of his pelvis and took her turn tormenting the tendons at the juncture of his thighs, the coarse hairs around the base of his penis tickling the sides of her face. Then she rose slightly and kissed the purple head straining towards her. She flicked her tongue across the top of it, collecting a drop of his pre-cum and tasting its salty twang.

Licking her lips, she slid them over the head of his penis, slowly gliding down its length as far as she could before rising back up its length. She ran her tongue along its underside and sucked it hard before pushing back down on it.

“Oh, my God, Nyah!” Matt's hand was a fist in her hair now, but he wasn't putting any pressure on her head or trying to force her to do anything.

She repeated those motions in different combinations a few more times, reveling in the sounds she drew from him. She had never thought doing this to a man could be erotic, but the combination of hard and silkiness in her mouth and the taste of him made her wet all over again. This was what love making was about. Enjoying every aspect of each other and sharing pleasure.

Suddenly, he stiffened under her and his grip in her hair stilled her motions. Did she do something wrong, she thought in panic. Then he grabbed her under her arms and pulled her back up the bed to him, flipping her onto her back. His eyes were dark and stormy, and his face flushed.

“Any more of that, and I wouldn't have anything left to do this,” he told her as he pushed her legs open with his kneed and nudged her entrance.

Nyah gave a sigh of relief that quickly became a sigh of pleasure as he slid into her warmth. He stopped when he was completely sheathed by her and ground his hips into hers, increasing the pressure of his penetration. Her breath hitched in her throat at the pleasure. He slid out of her slowly, then with a hard thrust, plunged back in.

She dug her nails into his shoulders and met his thrusts. He alternated between teasing her by going agonizingly slow and gentle and pounding hard and fast. The tension would build in her core, only to ease when he slowed. During one of the slow moments, his mouth found her breast and sucked in a taunt nipple, rolling it between his teeth. She arched her back under him, pushing her breast against his mouth. He rewarded her by biting down on the nipple while teasing the other one between his fingers, then thrust hard again.

When she could take it no longer, she begged, “please, Matt, don't stop,” and locked her ankles around the backs of his thighs to lift her hips higher to meet his thrusts. This time, he didn't stop, and his deep strokes pushed her over the edge. She keened into his shoulder as waves of pleasure swept through her body. Just as they started to subside, his breath grew ragged and his strokes lost their rhythm as he found his release also.

He arched over her and shouted incoherently, before collapsing, with only his arms holding his weight off her. Nuzzling her neck, he mumbled something she couldn't make out, then rolled to the side, drawing her back up against him and wrapping his arms around her.


	37. Chapter 37

They lay together in comfortable silence, dozing on and off through the afternoon and evening. Twice more, they made love before taking a shower together to clean up. They ordered pizza in, arguing over whether New York or Chicago styles were the best and the toppings. They ended up compromising by ordering from two different places, one of each kind.

They talked about the trafficking case and speculated how many of the Foggy and his missing persons cases would be solved before everything was said and done. He teased her for not knowing anything about modern American sports and she teased him for the same about soccer, or the real football as she called it.

They sat up late into the night as she told him stories about growing up in the court of Kublai Khan. He told her about getting his ass handed to him time after time by Stick. When Nyah started nodding off, he took her by the hand and led her back to his bedroom where they snuggled until she fell asleep.

Then he got up and got dressed and headed out as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Before he left the bedroom, he paused and looked down at her sleeping form. It would be nice to come home to someone for a change, he thought smiling.

****

Nyah woke up later to discover Matt gone from the bed. At first, she was confused. Then angry. Finally, she realized that he had his nighttime alter-ego and was out doing his thing. She flipped over, hugging his pillow that still smelled of him and went back to sleep.

She woke to the scent of cherry blossoms and a cool night breeze caressing her face. Sitting up, she found Wen Lei siting on the grass next to her, his eyes closed as he meditated.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“I have been waiting on you, Little Bee. It has been a while,” he opened his eyes and smiled sadly at her.

“There has been a lot going on. I've had little time for myself.”

“I know. You have been through a lot over the last months, but I see you have persevered.”

She nodded, “for once I was able to save people of my choosing. It felt good.”

“And you have finally found someone to love that can love you back.”

“You loved me, Lei. I always knew you did, even though you couldn't show it,” she protested.

“No, Little Bee, you saw only what you wanted to see.” He raised a hand to stop her. “Yes, I did love you, but not the way you wanted, needed me to love you. I could never have given you what you desired. I was a monk by choice. I would have never given that up. Anything else was just a young girl's fantasy.”

Tear burned in her eyes, as she thought back to their time together. Had the kisses they shared in secret been real, or just ones that she imagined so vividly that they eventually seemed real? The little touches they shared; did she truly read more into them than the gentle guidance of a teacher to his beloved student? Was their shared love all in her head?

Nyah hung her head in shame, her tears running hot down her face. “Then it was all for something that never existed. Is that what you are telling me? What was the point?”

“The point?” he shook his head. “Why do you think life has to have a point? All that happens to us in life is of our own making. My death at the order of your father was a result of a succession of choices both you and I made, each for our own reason. All we can hope for is to do better in our next life. That is the point, Little Bee: to learn from our past so we will not repeat our missteps.”

“Now,” he stood in one smooth motion, “due to your choices, we are both free. I am free to go to my next life to try again. You are free to live and love.”

She sniffled like a small child, “will I never see you again?”

He smiled down at her, “not in this life, no. Who knows what will happen in our future lives? Maybe our paths will cross again one day. Maybe not. It is not for us unenlightened beings to know.”

“I will miss your guidance, Lei.”

“You need to follow your own stars now and take more care with yourself.”

He faded out of existence and Nyah as left alone in the garden. She smiled into the darkness, he was right she had someone to love now and she needed to take care because her actions would affect him. Matt already lived a dangerous life; he didn't need her bringing any more danger into it. She sat back down and struck a meditative pose and let the darkness envelope her.

****

The next few weeks passed quickly. Matt's cases and nighttime activities kept him busy and Nyah lawyers made a large anonymous donation to the women’s center with the condition it be renamed The Vitalidi Women's Center, which the city gladly accepted. She also had her lawyers set up a fund to cover the medical and rehabilitation expenses of all the victims of Montgomery and his henchmen.

She was approached by the city council and asked to take over as the director of the center, a position she accepted with both excitement and trepidation. She was ready for a challenge that didn't involve her dying once a month but was worried that she didn't have the skills and knowledge required to do the job correctly. She was wrong. During the weeks of renovating the center, hiring additional staff, buying new computers, and organizing the entire enterprise, she repeatedly rose to meet the challenges and thrived.

She spent every evening with Matt until she went to sleep, and he went out for the night. The talked about a wide range of subjects, taking time to get to know each other. Nyah caught herself time and again wanting to tell him that she loved him, but always hesitated and lost the moment. She had never been timid, but after learning that what she had thought Lei had felt for her was just her projecting her feelings, she didn’t trust what she read into Matt’s actions and words. Was she just moving from one fantasy to another?

He was attentive and kind, a passionate lover, a considerate listener. Their time together was easy, they meshed like they had been a couple for years. They had only a couple of arguments, but those were about his vigilante activities and her wanting to help the FBI catch the elusive Diego. But these were minor in the grand scheme of things. Still, Nyah couldn’t keep the nagging suspicion that he was hiding something from her at bay. When she tried to broach the subject, he deftly redirected the conversation to a safer topic, and she allowed it.

Nevertheless, the weeks that passed were some of the most enjoyable she had experienced in her long life. As the new moon approached, she found herself less apprehensive, knowing that she had a life and a support system to return to afterwards.

Matt was another story. The week before the new moon, he became tense and irritable. Sudden, sharp noises made him snap at the person that caused them or the closest person at the time. Even Karen and Foggy noticed. He almost got thrown out of one hearing at court for contempt. Everyone was walking on eggshells around him.

Two nights before the new moon, Nyah took advantage of the afterglow of their lovemaking to bring up the subject.

Snuggling close and wrapping her arm across his chest she asked, “what’s been bothering you so much?”

She could feel him tense under her touch.

“And don’t say ‘nothing’, I know better than that.” She propped herself up on an elbow and looked down into his face, “I know it’s about Monday night. Talk to me, please.”

He sighed heavily and raised a hand to scrub his face, “I don’t know if I can handle it, honestly. The thought of you going out to die…,” he moved her arm and sat up, facing away from her. “It’s eating me alive. There are so many things that I can do something about, but with this? There’s nothing I can do to protect you. I don’t do well feeling helpless.”

She sat up and leaned against his back, “that’s how I feel every single time. I never stop dreading it. No matter what I do, where I go, this will always be there.”

They sat like for a bit, then she took a deep breath, “If you can’t handle it, now is the time to say so. Before we get any more involved.” Her chest tightened painfully at her next words, “I understand if you can’t. I won’t force this on you.”

Nyah turned and swung her legs over the side of the bed to get up, but Matt spun and flipped her onto her back and leaned over her, his eyes flashing with anger.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he ground out. “I’m not done.”

He put his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, “I’m not letting you go that easily. What I am trying to say, and doing a shitty job apparently, is that I’m not going to just passively accept this. You’re mean too much to me. I want to fight it, find some way to end the cycle. It might be futile, but I have to try.”

The weight on her chest lifted and she raised up to kiss his lips, “I can accept that.”

He bent his head and kissed her deeply in return. It was a long time before she was able to go to sleep that night.


	38. Chapter 38

When she woke again, it was still dark out, and the clock read 3:15. Matt’s side of the bed was still empty, but she heard movement out in the living room. That must have been what woke her; he just got back, she thought, throwing the covers back and climbing out of bed.

Pulling one of Matt’s t-shirts over her head, she stepped out of the bedroom and squinted into the living room which was lit by the neon glow of the sign outside the windows. Was there a shadow moving in the kitchen? Typical Matt, only a blind man would wander around in the dark.

“Matt?” she called out, stepping over to a lamp to turn it on.

Before her hand contacted the switch, she was grabbed roughly from behind and a blade was pressed into her throat.

“Don’t scream or I’ll slit your throat right now,” an unknown voice growled in her ear.

The lamp clicked on, bathing the room with soft white light stained pink by the neon. She was shoved into the nearest chair and her captor sat on the table at her knees. He was dark skinned with close-cropped black hair sprinkled with gray and dark eyes that might be blue. She had never seen him before.

“Who are you?”

He grinned, showing a gold tooth, “how rude of me. We haven’t officially met, but you have really fucked up my life royally. I’m Diego Vasquez.”

“The FBI is looking for you.”

“No shit. They wouldn’t be if you could have kept your nose in your own business.” He tapped her bare leg with the knife. Nyah could see that he also had a gun tucked into the waistband of his pants along with another knife. “I was about to get out of town for a while, but I wanted to pay you a little visit first. Too bad your boyfriend is out. I’d like to have a few words with him too.”

Matt was who she was really worried about. He would be back soon, and she didn’t want him caught in this. There was no way she was going to let him get hurt protecting her. Especially today of all days. Diego was obviously going to kill her, but he needed to get on with it.

She relaxed and leaned back in the chair and smirked at him, “I’m not afraid of you. You’re just a garbage disposal. You bury the bodies that other’s kill. Is that what you’re going to do? Bury me?” She looked around and raised an eyebrow, “I don’t see your shovel.”

Diego stiffened at her taunt, “Little Girl, you don’t know shit about me. Most of those bodies they found, I killed. You have no idea what you stumbled into.” He leaned forward, his gold tooth gleaming in the lamp light. “But you’re about to find out.”

Nyah laughed at the threat. “Are you supposed to be scary?”

He lunged without warning and she met his neck with her elbow, knocking him aside enough for her to leap out of the chair and circle around behind him. Her planned had changed, she wanted to disable him so Matt could find him. She couldn’t let him escape justice.

She swung her leg to knock his out from under him. He didn’t fall, though, instead he pitched forward and caught himself on the chair she had just vacated. Nyah kicked out, but surprisingly, he was faster, and spun away before she could make contact.

He grinned wickedly at her, “you’re a fighter? I like it when they fight back. It makes it so much more fun in the end.” He pulled another knife from his belt and brandished both blades at her. “I’m going to cut you into little pieces, girlie.”

He stalked towards her, taking a swing when he was within striking distance. He had a greater reach than she did, putting her at disadvantage, but she had trained for years with Lei who had the same advantage. She ducked under his swing and delivered an open-handed punch to his diaphragm, knocking the air out of his lungs.

She expected him to stumble back to catch his breath, but instead, he changed the direction of his initial swing and caught her on the jaw with the butt of the knife with a glancing blow. She was the one that backed away to regroup.

He didn’t give her the chance and closed in on her immediately. He wasn’t as fast, but he was unpredictable and strong. It would only take a few blows from him to disable her. She danced back out of his reach, then charged at him this time. At the last moment, she darted to the left, stepped on the coffee table and grabbing a vase of flowers from it. Spinning to get behind him, she jumped and brought the vase down on his head. Spinning with her, Diego’s leading arm deflected the vase sending it tumbling harmlessly to the floor and shattering on impact. His other arm caught her in the stomach and flung her across the room where she crashed into the table in the kitchen.

She flipped over onto her hands and knees and jumped up in one smooth motion, turning to face him and having to duck quickly to avoid his punch. Fuck, he was faster than she thought. What the hell was he? It didn’t matter, she was the daughter of a Khan. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

She blocked the next blow with her forearm, its force jarring the entire limb. She kicked him in the knee to hyperextend it and he just grunted and tossed her against the wall like she was a doll. Pushing off the wall, she met his advance and landed two successive kicks and a solid kidney punch as she darted around him, taking advantage of her superior speed. The kidney punch alone should have dropped him, but he barely flinched at it.

Backing away, she panted, “what the hell are you?”

“Your worst nightmare,” he grinned.

She moaned at the horrible line, “really, that’s the best you can do?”

“The last thing you’ll ever see?” 

“Sorry I asked,” and she launched herself at him again, landing another quick volley of blows before dancing out of his reach once more. 

Though one of her blows had succeeded in knocking the knife out of his left hand, they had little effect on him. She was going to have to try another approach.

Looking around the room for something to use as a weapon, she spotted the cord for Matt’s laptop lying on the kitchen counter. She feigned a lunge in the opposite direction then raced into the kitchen, snatching the cord off the counter as she vaulted over it back into the dining area and put the table between them.

He stalked her around the table, and she caught a glimpse of the clock on the microwave: 3:41. Matt would be back anytime now. She needed to end this now.

Wrapping one end of the cord around her hand as she drew him into the area between the living room and bedroom, she ran towards him, ducking at the last moment to elude his swings and sliding past him. She popped up behind him and jumped on his back before he could turn and looped the cord around his neck. She pulled back hard, putting all her weight on the cord and digging her knees into his back. Diego gave a choked off wheeze and dropped to his knees.

Expecting him to drop forward, Nyah shifted her weight slightly, but kept her grip on the cords, keeping them pulled taunt. Instead of falling, though, Diego reached up, grabbed her by the t-shirt and flipped her over his head to land on her back in front of him on the floor. The glass from the broken vase crunched under her and shards sliced through her shirt and into her back.

“Fun’s over, Little Girl,” he grunted as he took a breath and brought his remaining knife down in an arc. Nyah crossed her forearms over her to catch the blow, but he grabbed one of her wrists and pinned it to the floor. She only succeeded in deflecting the path of the blade with her free arm. Instead of stabbing her through the chest, the knife slid along her lowest rib and sank deep into her abdomen, its downward momentum only stopping when the tip dug into the wooden floor under her.

As she gasped in pain, Diego leaned over her, cupped her face with his hands and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“You put up a good fight, girlie. Thank you.”

Nyah’s outstretched hand touched a jagged piece of the broken vase. Grasping it tightly, not feeling it cut into her flesh, she swung it up and jabbed it into the side of Diego’s neck as he crouched over her head. Hot blood showered her from the artery she had severed with the shard. He made a gurgling noise and fell over onto the floor. Blood frothed at his mouth briefly, then he laid still, his eyes glazing over in death.

She heard the door open and Matt’s alarmed yell from a great distance, then her world turned black.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here it is, sadly, the last chapter. I have loved writing this story. It just seemed to write itself most of the time! I hope all of you lovely readers out there enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. I won't say goodbye, though, because I have a bunch more stories running through my head, trying to get out. So long, for now!

*****

A rhythmic beep and irritating hissing sound penetrated the darkness first followed by an acrid chemical smell. Nyah’s eyes flickered open in the dimly lit, unfamiliar room. It took a few heartbeats to realize she was in a hospital room. The sounds she was hearing came from a machine next to her bed, near her head. The smell was coming from a tube wrapped around her face and positioned under her nose: oxygen. She lifted a hand to remove the tube and felt an uncomfortable tug. Frowning, she turned her head and saw an IV line in her arm running to the machine.

She heard a soft snore to the other side and turned her head towards the sound. Curled up in an uncomfortable position in a chair under a window that had the blinds and curtains pulled closed to block out the light from outside, Matt was sound asleep. His face was soft and relaxed in his sleep, with none of the intensity that he carried when he was awake. She could watch him like that for eternity and never tire of it.

Her eyes burned unexpectedly with emotion and a lump formed in her throat at the memory of the pain she had heard in his voice before she passes out. How was she going to live with herself when all she could do was cause him that same pain every month with no reprieve? Could she be that selfish? It wasn’t fair to him to have to live that way for the rest of his life.

The slight choking noise she made trying to stifle a sob made Matt’s eyes flutter open. He immediately jumped to his feet and closed the distance, picking up her free hand and kissing its bandaged back.

“Welcome back,” he smiled down at her. He had obviously been in the same suit for more than 24 hours, if the wrinkles in it were to be trusted, and there was a brown stain on the shirt he was wearing. His hair stood up in places and was plastered against him head in others. Dark circles under his eyes made his face look haggard and much older.

She smiled weakly back, “you look like hell.” Her voice was hoarse from disuse and the dry oxygen she had been breathing.

“You don’t look too hot yourself.”

“Are you kidding?” she croaked. “I rock the hospital chic look.”

He chuckled weakly, then sobered quickly as he studied her face.

“Hey,” she whispered, “it’s okay.” She tried to squeeze his hand, but the bandages on hers made it difficult to move her fingers.

She frowned, her mind suddenly racing. The IV, oxygen, and bandages could only mean one thing: she hadn’t died from the knife wound. If she had died, her regeneration would have wiped away all her injuries.

“Matt,” she said with alarm, “what day is it?” 

She tried to sit up, but he put a hand on her shoulder to hold her down. Panic rose in her throat. The sun peeking through the blinds meant it was still Monday. She had to get out of the hospital before it went down. There was no way she could avoid exposure if she died in the hospital in front of a medical staff.

“Calm down, Nyah. You’ll pull out your stitches and start bleeding again.” Matt grabbed her hand to keep her from pulling out her IV.

“No, Matt, you don’t understand. I’ve got to get out of here before sundown.”

“Nyah, it’s too late. It’s Thursday.” When she continued to struggle, he let go of her hands and grabbed her by either side of the face, forcing her to look at him. “Listen to me. It’s Thursday. The moon is back.”

What he was saying sank in and she stilled. Thursday? Her eyes flickered to her bandaged hand that was wrapped around his wrist.

“How?” she licked her dry lips, but her tongue was too dry.

“Here,” Matt released her to grab a cup with a straw in it and held her up while she took a sip.

“I don’t know exactly. When I found you, you were bleeding out. Diego had stabbed you through the liver and had nicked an artery. By the time the EMTs got there, you were ice cold. To be honest, I only called 911 because I panicked. Afterwards, I was worried you would disappear on the way to the hospital.”

“I guess I didn’t. What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know. I was told later that it was close, but you never coded. You were in surgery for over 5 hours, then in ICU for two days.” He took her hand again and lowered his voice, “Boyd has been here constantly, waiting on you to wake up so he can take your statement.”

Her eyes darted past him to the door that was only partially open, “I don’t think I’m ready yet.” Her eyes were feeling heavy, “I’m tired.”

“That’s the morphine in your drip.” He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead in the same place Diego had kissed after stabbing her. “Get some rest, Boyd can wait. It’s not like Diego is going anywhere,” he chuckled.

****

Boyd did get his chance to take her statement the next day. Diego’s DNA had been found on all the bodies buried on Hog Island and, when the FBI searched his home, they found dozens of videos of him and his victims. He had been killing for over twenty years and they were still unearthing bodies on the island. In addition to dumping bodies for the trafficking ring, he had been a prolific serial killer.

When Nyah asked Boyd if anything unusual about Diego’s body had been discovered during the autopsy, he didn’t understand what she was asking about, and she let it drop. If there was something special about her attacker, it went with him to the grave.

She wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital until Monday, and when the nurse wheeled her out in the cool autumn air, she threw back her head and just breathed it in. Karen and Foggy waiting for her on the curb alongside an Uber since Matt was in court and Nyah had refused to allow him to postpone the hearing. The couple had come to visit her at the hospital every day during her stay, and Karen always sat with her while Matt was at court or busy with a case.

Her recovery went smoothly over the next two weeks. She gained her strength back and was able to be more active each day. She was still staying with Matt at his apartment, but they had yet to talk about long term plans. She was content for the time being to leave it at that.

On Monday the third week since her release from the hospital, she convinced Matt to let her walk back to work with him after he came home to have lunch with her, a habit he had developed the last weeks. Holding on to him as they descended the stairs, she stopped at the sight of a familiar face outside the door on the ground floor.

“Mrs. Vitalidi,” she greeted the older woman in Greek with a smile, “how is Marina doing?”

She as enveloped in a hug and received a kiss on her cheek.

“She’s doing well, thanks to you.” Mrs. Vitalidi stepped back but held on to Nyah’s hand with both of hers. “That’s why I came by; we are leaving tomorrow to fly back to Greece.”

“Really? Are you being deported?” Nyah was already planning to call agent Boyd and get him involved.

“No, no, Dear, nothing like that,” she patted Nyah’s hand. “While Marina was recovering, she started doing some research into our family. She even called some of our distant relatives in Greece. She found out that our family has a long history that goes back hundreds of years and that the two of us are the only remaining members of our branch of the family.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!” Nyah was really surprised, these Romani families could be secretive to the point of paranoia about their histories and that was why there were very few official records for them. She had tried many times over the years to discover something about them in hopes of discovering a way out of her curse, only to come up empty handed and frustrated every time.

“Now Marina wants to go back to Greece to meet them and learn about her heritage.” Mrs. Vitalidi’s voice lowered into a conspiratorial whisper, “Her therapist thinks it will do her some good to get away from the city for a while and all the bad memories.”

Nyah nodded, “I can see that. Can I do anything to help? Do you need anything?”

Again Mrs. Vitalidi patted her hand, “No, Dear, you’ve already done enough. Your efforts and those of this handsome young man saved my daughter and saved our family from dying out forever on top of that.” She lowered her voice into a whisper again and leaned in close, wagging her eyebrows at Matt beside them, “Besides, you need to start worrying about your own family.”

Nyah blushed furiously as the woman hugged her again and wishing her a large family with dozens of happy children, then she surprised Matt by hugging him and squeezing his butt with a hilarious cackle. Waving at the two of them, she hustled to a waiting Uber and was driven away.

Matt looked at her with a bemused look, “what was that about?”

Nyah laughed, “damned Gypsies!”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she took his arm again. Let’s get you back to your office.”

****

Nyah and Matt settled into an easy rhythm as she took up the reins of the women’s center once more and he stayed busy with cases. The days flew by, and before she realized it, the new moon was once again upon her. Matt’s court schedule, unfortunately, was empty so he spent the day hovering around her at the center. She understood his concern but found herself short on patience as the day wore on.

During the early afternoon, distracted by his constant pacing in her office, she put down her tablet and stood.

“Let’s go.”

Matt froze in mid-stride. “Go where?” 

“Home.” She walked around her desk and wrapped her arm around his, “you are driving me nuts and I can’t concentrate with your hovering. So, it’s either we go home and find something to do to pass the time until the sun sets, or I just kill you right now. Your choice, darling.”

His mouth quirked up at the corner, “I think it might be fun for you to try to kill me.” He poked her midsection, “you’re getting kind of soft. You could use the exercise.”

She pinched his arm that she held captive, “did you just call me fat?”

“Not even I’m that stupid,” he answered and planted a kiss on her temple. “Let’s go.”

****

They passed the time sparing in the open area of her apartment. Nyah found herself thinking that Matt might be right: she was getting soft. As their dance flowed back and forth across the space, she felt some unfamiliar twinges. She had just been out of the hospital for less than a month, so she waved it off. She used the opportunity to try out a few moves requiring less twisting that she seldom used due to their complexity.

“You need to show me that one again,” Matt commented after one that put him flat on his back.

“Oh, I don’t think so. I’ll keep that one to myself to use on you again. I kind of like you one the ground at my feet,” she grinned as she reached down to offer him a hand up.

He reached up to take her hand then gave it a tug to pull her down on top of him.

“Nice move,” she pushed herself up enough to plant a kiss on him lips.

“Yeah, I save that one for all the hot women I fight.”

“How’s that work out for you?”

“I’ll let you know in a few minutes,” Matt murmured as he rolled over to pin her under him.

Over an hour later, the two of them lay in her bed, the sheet in a tangle at their feet. Nyah snuggled next to him and traced patterns on his bare chest.

“We should do this every month.”

“No argument from me,” he took her hand and raised it to his lips, “I thought I’d never get you out of that office.”

“Oh, so today was all just an act to lure me into your bed?”

“Absolutely. Everyone knows how calm, cool, and collected I am. It’s practically legendary.”

Nyah couldn’t contain her laugh, “oh, I’m sure. Let me call Foggy and ask his opinion.” She leaned away to reach for her phone, only to erupt into peals of laughter as Matt pounced on her.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

They wrestled on the bed, Matt trying to tickle her and Nyah trying to stop him, until they both rolled off, landing with a loud thud on the floor.

“Stop it!” she giggled. “See what you did?”

He pulled her onto his lap in a hug, “Yeah, you’re right. That downstairs neighbor of yours likes to ease drop.”

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Matt took a breath and blurted, “I love you.”

Nyah twisted in his arms to face him and he pressed a lingering kiss to her lips.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know you love Wen Lei,” he said against them. “You may never be able to love me like that, and I understand.” He leaned his forehead against hers and sighed, “I just want you to know I’m here for you, and I plan to stay here until you tell me to leave.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and a drop rolled down her cheek as she reached up and placed her hands on either side of his face, “I love you, Matt Murdock. I think I have for a long time, but I let what I thought I had for Lei get in the way. But I finally realized that what I feel for you is real and not some fantasy.”

A smile lit his face like the sun peeking through the clouds after a storm, bright and full of hope. He kissed her again, this time passionately and she returned it just as passionately.

Breaking the kiss reluctantly, he said, “I’m not the easiest person to live with. I’ve got some bad habits.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. You always leave the toilet seat up and dirty socks on the floor of the bathroom.” She poked him in the chest playfully, “then there’s your habit of wearing spandex and running around town all night long.”

“It’s not spandex, it’s state-of-the-art…,”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me!”

As they kissed, Nyah felt for the first time since Lei’s death that maybe, just maybe, that she finally found something to live for. Something that made her truly happy. Not just survive from one new moon to the next, but something that gave her life meaning.

At that thought, she stiffened and pushed away from Matt.

“What?” he asked in confusion.

“What time is it?” She scrambled to reach her phone. The screen read 7:45.

“Oh, merciful Eternal Sky,” she breathed.

“What? What is it?” 

“The sun set almost thirty minutes ago,” she whispered weakly.

Matt stopped to digest her statement. “And you’re still here.”

She nodded, tears running down her cheeks.

“What does this mean?”

“I think,” her voice broke. “I think it means the curse has been broken.”

“How is that even possible?”

She hiccuped and giggled, shaking her head, “damn Gypsies.”

“What Gypsies?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said as she flung her arms around him. “Shut up and kiss me!”

The End


End file.
